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Phone Call to Little Brothers Far Away

Baby, I miss your handshakes
Hugs
Soccer balls
Screams at 8am
Saturday
Outside my door
Metal cars
I’d trip over

Baby, I miss the summers we spent on couches
At tables, in libraries, with flashcards,
The Bob books you hated so I
Wrote you my own.
Together we tackled all 26 letters
And their basic three-letter combinations:
The H’s and W’s, the’s and bat’s we worked especially on.
(By the end we had run out of words you knew that
Began with a “hhh” sound) .

Gina, we’re bored. What are you doing?

I’d like to be bored with you, Baby.
Instead of essays, calculus, laundry,
Alarm clocks, have-to’s, should-have’s
I’d take a break from the real world
And sit in yours for a while.

We’d build Lego spaceships and fly them
In the woods,
Our greatest fear being spiders in the dirt,
We’d play Madlibs,
Eat pasta with parmesan cheese,
With no worries of calories or cholesterol,
Watch The Emperor’s New Groove on the VCR
(Stay up past your bedtime on a school night
Because I want you with me as long as possible) .

poem by Gina Prettybrowneyes
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Soccer Rollback

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Soccer Under 20

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Sobre Horizontes

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Soboba

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poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
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Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer–Passion Song

Soccer in the evening;
Soccer in the morning;
Soccer in spring and fall.

Soccer in the raining;
Soccer in the snowing;
Soccer in winter and summer.

Soccer in between my feet,
where I walk;
Soccer in my heart and mind,
how I live;
Soccer my love and life.

Soccer I wake up and play;
Soccer I hold it to sleep;
Soccer my work and rest.

Soccer I sing a new song;
Soccer I dance the magic steps;
Soccer my tears and joy.

Soccer my Mom buys it for me to play;
Soccer my Dad brings me to the game;
Soccer my dear Love watches me to score.

Soccer I dribble and shoot;
Soccer I pass and fall;
Soccer my glory and downfall.

Soccer I strike to attack;
Soccer I tackle to defend;
Soccer my struggle and survival.

Soccer I receive the flags and the whistles;
Soccer I get the yellow and red card;
Soccer my moves and stop.

Soccer I meet my friends;
Soccer I make my enemies;
Soccer my conflict and peace.

Soccer I play and watch;
Soccer I watch but cannot play;
Soccer my dream and reality.

Soccer I learn the rights;
Soccer I confess the fouls;

[...] Read more

poem by Laijon Liu
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Veterinary Camps

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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University Of Central Florida Volleyball

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Twin State

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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Using Boot Camp

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poem by Caasder Fronds
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On More Saturday Night

One More Saturday Night
-----------------------
I went down to the mountain, I was drinkin' some wine,
looked up in the heavens Lord I saw a mighty sign,
written in fire across the heavens, plain as black and white;
Get prepared, there's gonna be a party tonight.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Everybody's dancin' down the local armory
with a basement full of dynamite and light artillery.
The temperature keeps risin', everybody gittin' high;
come the rockin' stroke of midnite, the place is gonna fly.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Turn on channel six, the President comes on the news,
says "I get no satisfaction, that's why I sing the blues."
These wives, they don't get crazy, Lord, they know just what to do,
crank up that old Victrola, put on them rockin' shoes.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
When God way up in Heaven, for whatever it was worth,
thought He'd have a big old party, thought He'd call it planet Earth.
Don't worry about tomorrow, Lord, you'll know it when it comes,
when the rock and roll music meets the risin' shinin' sun.
Uhuh, Hey! Saturday Night!
Yeh, uhuh one more Saturday night,
Hey saturday night !
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Everybody gettin' right,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night.
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
Hey another Saturday night,
One more saturday, one more saturday night

song performed by Grateful Dead
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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Cars Are Cars

Words & music by paul simon 1983
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Similarly made. similarly sold
In a motorcade. abandoned when theyre old
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Engine in the front. jack in the back
Wheels take the brunt. pinion and a rack
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
But people are strangers
They change with the curve
From time zone to time zone
As we can observe
They shut down their borders
And think theyre immune
They stand on their differences
And shoot at the moon
But cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Drive em on the left. drive em on the right
Susceptible to theft in the middle of the night
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
I once had a car
That was more like a home
I lived in it, loved in it
Polished its chrome
If some of my homes
Had been more like my car
I probably wouldnt have
Travelled this far
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world
Cars are cars all over the world

song performed by Paul Simon
Added by Lucian Velea
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III. The Other Half-Rome

Another day that finds her living yet,
Little Pompilia, with the patient brow
And lamentable smile on those poor lips,
And, under the white hospital-array,
A flower-like body, to frighten at a bruise
You'd think, yet now, stabbed through and through again,
Alive i' the ruins. 'T is a miracle.
It seems that, when her husband struck her first,
She prayed Madonna just that she might live
So long as to confess and be absolved;
And whether it was that, all her sad life long
Never before successful in a prayer,
This prayer rose with authority too dread,—
Or whether, because earth was hell to her,
By compensation, when the blackness broke
She got one glimpse of quiet and the cool blue,
To show her for a moment such things were,—
Or else,—as the Augustinian Brother thinks,
The friar who took confession from her lip,—
When a probationary soul that moved
From nobleness to nobleness, as she,
Over the rough way of the world, succumbs,
Bloodies its last thorn with unflinching foot,
The angels love to do their work betimes,
Staunch some wounds here nor leave so much for God.
Who knows? However it be, confessed, absolved,
She lies, with overplus of life beside
To speak and right herself from first to last,
Right the friend also, lamb-pure, lion-brave,
Care for the boy's concerns, to save the son
From the sire, her two-weeks' infant orphaned thus,
And—with best smile of all reserved for him—
Pardon that sire and husband from the heart.
A miracle, so tell your Molinists!

There she lies in the long white lazar-house.
Rome has besieged, these two days, never doubt,
Saint Anna's where she waits her death, to hear
Though but the chink o' the bell, turn o' the hinge
When the reluctant wicket opes at last,
Lets in, on now this and now that pretence,
Too many by half,—complain the men of art,—
For a patient in such plight. The lawyers first
Paid the due visit—justice must be done;
They took her witness, why the murder was.
Then the priests followed properly,—a soul
To shrive; 't was Brother Celestine's own right,
The same who noises thus her gifts abroad.
But many more, who found they were old friends,
Pushed in to have their stare and take their talk

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Saturday Night's Alright

It's getting late have you seen my mates,
It's getting late have you seen my mates,
Go on and tell me when the boys get here.
Go on and tell me when the boys get here.
It's seven o'clock and I want to rock,
It's seven o'clock and i want to rock,
Want to get a belly full of beer.
Want to get a belly full of beer.
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
My old man's drunker than a barrel full of monkeys
And my old lady she don't care
And my old lady she don't care
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots with a handful of grease in her hair.
My sister looks cute in her braces and boots with a handful of grease in her hair.
Hey... Don't give us none of your aggravation,
Hey... don't give us none of your aggravation,
We've had it with your discipline.
We've had it with your discipline.
Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting, get a little action in.
Saturday night's alright for fighting, get a little action in.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
Cause' Saturday Night's the night I like,
Cause' saturday night's the night i like,
Saturday Nights Alright..
Saturday nights alright..
Alright, Alright!
Alright, alright!
Well, we're packed pretty tight in here tonight and I'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right.
Well, we're packed pretty tight in here tonight and i'm looking for a dolly who'll see me right.
I may use a little muscle to get what I need, and sink a little drink and shout out, 'She's with me!'.
I may use a little muscle to get what i need, and sink a little drink and shout out, "she's with me!".
A couple of the sounds that I really like are the sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
A couple of the sounds that i really like are the sound of a switchblade and a motorbike.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class, who's best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
I'm a juvenile product of the working class, who's best friend floats in the bottom of a glass.
Don't give us none of your aggravation, we've had it with your discipline.
Don't give us none of your aggravation, we've had it with your discipline.
Saturday Night's Alright for fighting, to get a little action in.
Saturday night's alright for fighting, to get a little action in.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
I get about as oiled as a diesel train, gonna set this dance alight.
Cause Saturday Night's the night I like,
Cause saturday night's the night i like,
Saturday Night's Alright...
Saturday night's alright...
Alright, Alright!
Alright, alright!
Chorus: Saturday, Saturday, Saturday!........
Chorus: saturday, saturday, saturday!........

[...] Read more

song performed by Who
Added by Lucian Velea
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Got You By The Balls

Hey mister businessman
Head of the company
Are you looking for a lady
One who likes to please?
Hey mister businessman
This one likes to tease
With a special service
In french quantities
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
And shes calling all the shots
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Hey mister businessman
High society
She can play the school girl
And spank you all you please
But she wont sacrifice
What you want tonight
She wont come across
Unless theres money in her hand
She dont go overtime
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
(kiss your balls goodbye)
Hang it left, hang it right,
Got you by the balls
Got your shorts, got your curlies
Got you - by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
Yeah, yeah
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls
She got you by the balls

song performed by AC-DC
Added by Lucian Velea
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Soul Survivor

(Intro)
Come on, yo come on (survivor, survivor)
Come on, come on, come on, come on (survivor, survivor)
Come on, come on (soul survivor)
Come on, come on, come on, come on
(LL Cool J)
They said I wasn't rough, too much dough, he got an old flow
Everytime you open your mouth you feel your elbow
I'll catch a felony on top of a melody
brought a family, and dough woulda been so happily
I'll beat the Laker off of a clown and chop him down to size
Sick of all these wanna-be bad guys
Made loot, many g's, bought a crib where I live
told my kids - "yo, damn, that I'm a fugitive"
Runnin' from the streets and our beats - the sad sheets, uh
A sunny beach, video hoes within reach
Farmers Boulevard - liberty and forty is gone
And E ain't put nobody on
When I came back to smack and give 'em a welt
like belts makin' them strip and all of that
Punks better run for they guns
I'm not the one and can't nobody rule until L's done
(Chorus)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)
(LL Cool J)
I worked the Murphy on the mix
What's wrong with these stupid lunatics playin' "Joint" for a drag-bit?
I'm harder than-?find in a jar?
People wasn't rippin' these records, all of y'all would get robbed
I'm comin' straight out the barrel with your name on my arm
blowin' the hoody of your head like a home-made bomb (BOOM!!)
I'm big and so you figured I would relax (nah!)
Don't ever sleep I'll wake ya up with an axe
The Boulevard ain't safe for my beats - drop the herb
Twenty times harder without a curse
Makin' rats flee, hardcore - and that's me!!
The baddest soloist in hip-hop history
L-L-C-to-the-O-to-the-O-L-J, so what'cha wanna know?
Throw ya in the MVP on your knees G
A crowbar in your mouth - now ask me...
(Chorus)
It's the L baby, baby, the L baby, baby
It's the L baby, baby, the heart (soul survivor)

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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First Book

OF writing many books there is no end;
And I who have written much in prose and verse
For others' uses, will write now for mine,–
Will write my story for my better self,
As when you paint your portrait for a friend,
Who keeps it in a drawer and looks at it
Long after he has ceased to love you, just
To hold together what he was and is.

I, writing thus, am still what men call young;
I have not so far left the coasts of life
To travel inland, that I cannot hear
That murmur of the outer Infinite
Which unweaned babies smile at in their sleep
When wondered at for smiling; not so far,
But still I catch my mother at her post
Beside the nursery-door, with finger up,
'Hush, hush–here's too much noise!' while her sweet eyes
Leap forward, taking part against her word
In the child's riot. Still I sit and feel
My father's slow hand, when she had left us both,
Stroke out my childish curls across his knee;
And hear Assunta's daily jest (she knew
He liked it better than a better jest)
Inquire how many golden scudi went
To make such ringlets. O my father's hand,
Stroke the poor hair down, stroke it heavily,–
Draw, press the child's head closer to thy knee!
I'm still too young, too young to sit alone.

I write. My mother was a Florentine,
Whose rare blue eyes were shut from seeing me
When scarcely I was four years old; my life,
A poor spark snatched up from a failing lamp
Which went out therefore. She was weak and frail;
She could not bear the joy of giving life–
The mother's rapture slew her. If her kiss
Had left a longer weight upon my lips,
It might have steadied the uneasy breath,
And reconciled and fraternised my soul
With the new order. As it was, indeed,
I felt a mother-want about the world,
And still went seeking, like a bleating lamb
Left out at night, in shutting up the fold,–
As restless as a nest-deserted bird
Grown chill through something being away, though what
It knows not. I, Aurora Leigh, was born
To make my father sadder, and myself
Not overjoyous, truly. Women know
The way to rear up children, (to be just,)

[...] Read more

poem by Elizabeth Barrett Browning from Aurora Leigh (1856)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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On A Saturday Night

Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
Yes she did, well come to bed and turn out the light
She's sleeping there, she's dreaming through her life
Yes she is
Well you know you've done no wrong
All you done is sing this song
You sing this song, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, wooh
That's when the bad man meets his fate
Sitting there, you're feeling only second rate
You're sorry now, you've come a little bit too late
Yes you did
But when you come around
You only bring you down
You feel a clown, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, yeah
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
You know she said, you've got to see the coming light
You know you are, you're riding through your life
Yes you are
Well you know you've done your best
All you need's a little rest
You've done your best, yes
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite

song performed by Journey
Added by Lucian Velea
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On A Saturday Nite

Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
Yes she did, well come to bed and turn out the light
She's sleeping there, she's dreaming through her life
Yes she is
Well you know you've done no wrong
All you done is sing this song
You sing this song, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, wooh
That's when the bad man meets his fate
Sitting there, you're feeling only second rate
You're sorry now, you've come a little bit too late
Yes you did
But when you come around
You only bring you down
You feel a clown, yeah
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright, yeah
Mama said, she said it's gonna be alright
You know she said, you've got to see the coming light
You know you are, you're riding through your life
Yes you are
Well you know you've done your best
All you need's a little rest
You've done your best, yes
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
On a Saturday nite
On a Saturday nite
Everything is alright
Everything is alright
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite
Saturday nite

song performed by Journey
Added by Lucian Velea
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Hurricane Cindy

What's that piece of ass i see walking over here?
What's that piece of ass to me, who is she standing near?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotion inside me
They go rolling inside me
Hold me close and never let me go
All my life i've wanted you to know
A few things 'bout me
I feel beautiful today
Lovely, beautiful
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
Saturday, saturday, what's on the heel?
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
What's on the heel, what's on the heel?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotion inside me
They go rolling inside me
Put it on the stereo and play
All my life i've wanted you to say
A few things 'bout me
I feel beautiful today
Lovely, beautiful
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
Saturday, saturday, what's on the heel?
Saturday, saturday, saturday, saturday
What's on the heel, what's on the heel?
And when i walk on a cyclone
You should see it get rolling
Over my heart and emotions inside me
They go rolling inside me
And when i walk it's a riot
You should see the commotion
A hundred people drowning in oceans inside me
They go rolling inside me
Inside me
Inside me
"that's for cindy crawford.

song performed by Liz Phair
Added by Lucian Velea
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