Shut me out of your holy life
Do not come into my unclean life
Shut me out of your sanctified life
My life is worldly-your life is heavenly
There are holes between your life and my life
poem by Ngaka Motaung
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Related quotes
Baby Blues
(bth australian version)
I wonder whats happening to me
Things are changing so dramatically
Ill search for you, youre not really there
Still I wonder knowing that you do care
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
He is the best thing to come my way
Perfect picture baby blues in my day
He is the best thing to come around
Sleeping in his cradle safe and sound
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up, I shut up
I shut up, I shut up, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
I shut up now, I shut up now
Baby blues, baby blues
Baby blues, baby blues
Baby baby, baby blues
Baby baby, baby blues
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
Sha la la, sha la la, sha la la, sha la la
song performed by Cranberries
Added by Lucian Velea
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To Ulla
Ulla, mine Ulla, tell me, may I hand thee
Reddest of strawberries in milk or wine?
Or from the pond a lively fish? Command me!
Or, from the well, a bowl of water fine?
Doors are blown open, the wind gets the blaming.
Perfumes exhale from flower and tree.
Clouds fleck the sky and the sun rises flaming,
As you see!
Isn't it heavenly--the fish market? So?
'Heavenly, oh heavenly!'
'See the stately trees there, standing row on row,--
Fresh, green leaves show!
And that pretty bay
Sparkling there?' 'Ah yes!'
'And, seen where sunbeams play,
The meadows' loveliness?
Are they not heavenly--those bright fields?--Confess!'--
Heavenly!
Heavenly!
Skal and good-noon, fair one in window leaning,
Hark how the city bells their peals prolong!
See how the dust the verdant turf is screening,
Where the calashes and the wagons throng!
Hand from the window--he's drowsy, the speaker,
In my saddle I nod, cousin mine--
Primo a crust, and secundo a beaker,
Hochlaender wine!
Isn't it heavenly--the fish-market? So?
'Heavenly, oh heavenly!'
'See the stately trees there, standing row on row,--
Fresh, green leaves show!
And that pretty bay
Sparkling there?' 'Ah yes!'
'And, seen where sunbeams play,
The meadows' loveliness?
Are they not heavenly--those bright fields?--Confess!'--
Heavenly!
Heavenly!
Look, Ulla dear! To the stable they're taking
Whinnying, prancing, my good steed, I see.
Still in his stall-door he lifts his head, making
Efforts to look up to thee: just to thee!
Nature itself into flames will be bursting;
Keep those bright eyes in control!
Klang! at your casement my heart, too, is thirsting.
Klang! Your Skal!
Isn't it heavenly--the fish-market? So?
'Heavenly, oh heavenly!'
[...] Read more
poem by Carl Michael Bellman
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I Wish I Was A Heavenly Angel
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would watch and protect mankind
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must play in my own kind
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would pray for those in sorrow
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must suffer the torment of borrow
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would worship my god day and night
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight for my own right
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would always cling to my sword
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must fight the pain of my fault
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would never no tiredness
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must till the land to grow in abundance
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would weep when man sin
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must pray for my own sin so dire
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would shore endlessly in space
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must check as I walk in pace
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For I would wonder around this world free
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must stand still as a tree
I wish I was a heavenly angel
For my heart shall always be in joy
But I am no heavenly angel
Hence must behave just like a boy
poem by Samuel Donkor
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Totalimmortal
Hope unknown
Sometimes just waking is surreal
I walk right through the nameless ones
I know that
Hope's unknown
Sometimes the water feels so real
As I walk through it fills
My lungs, my god, I'm drowning
This day never seems to end
This pain, never
This day never seems to end
This rage I can not let go
Oh, oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Oh oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
So alone
Sometimes I swear that i can hear
The taunting of the voiceless ones
I fear that
I alone
Fear those who finally cease to feel
That they're alone inside this place
I am the misplaced
This day never seems to end
This pain, never
This day never seems to end
This rage I can not let go
Oh, oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Oh oh
Hear them calling
Oh oh oh, oh
Feel them gnawing out holes
Oh oh
Holes through flawless souls
Now every face, it looks familiar
Then every face would melt away until
[...] Read more
song performed by Offspring
Added by Lucian Velea
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Y - hole- 9+2=11
Lucky at this hole.
Watchout - they steal holes.
WHO-WHO-WHO
Not them - them.
Flowing sands-sands-sands and man.
Catch infinite vibes - MAN.
HOLES-HOLES-HOLES
Gone hole insane, hole insane - PAINS.
Peephole, porthole, volcano hole.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
HOLES FOR SALE 'smart guy'.
Sells nothing - makes money - SMART.
HOLES FOR SALE
LUCKY, , , bought a hole....SMART.
Donut holes-Bagel holes - *FOR SALE*.
Never thought about holes before.
LUCKY, , , at the, , , , ,11 hole.
LUCKY-LUCKY-LUCKY - 'knows'.
HOLES FOR SALE - {sale day}
SALE DAY - SALE DAY - SALE DAY
HOLES FOR SALE
2/27/2009 Joe Poewhit
JESUS SAVES
poem by Joe Poewhit
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X-Ecutioner Style (feat. Black Thought)
(feat. Black Thought)
From the top
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up when Im talking to you
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Im about to br
Wasnt that fun?
Lets try something else
Forty-five calibre killer from out of the filler
Definitely going to show yall brothers how you not a gorilla
Smooth talking, fully automatic weapon concealer
Taste thriller, break thriller
Lets hit em with the bounce filler
Filthy stinking, standing on solid ground
And still be sinking, submerging in the parks
Still be linking, plucked beef when it starts
To f**k your thinking, its not a mirage
Im in the motherf**king track, yo, from out the garage
With an if, you to duck, but its hard to dodge
In the back of the spine where my dawgs, they lie
Going to flip it straight up, ripping apart your squad
X-ecutioner style, cuts and blends like a syringe
Hanging you from each of your limbs
See me coming through the party hard without no bodyguard
Smoking something, stomping on each of you Tims
Im the B-to-the-L, the A, the C, King
And when it comes to planning
The thought to keep thinking, man
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
Shut up
song performed by Linkin Park
Added by Lucian Velea
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Heavenly Arms
Heavenly arms reach out to hold me
Heavenly arms entice you to dance
In a world of ill will, the dancers are still
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Heavenly arms soft as a love song
Heavenly arms bring a kiss to your ear
In a world that seems mad, all the dancers seem sad
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Heavenly arms come to my rescue
Only a woman can love a man
In a world full of hate, love should never wait
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Heavenly arms strong as a sunset
Heavenly arms pure as the rain
Lovers stand warned of the worlds impending storm
Heavenly arms reach out to me
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Sylvia
Ohhh-wohhh, oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh, oh-woh-woh
Ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh-ooohhh, ohh-woh-woh
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
(sylvia, you mean so much to me)
(heavenly arms reach out to hold me)
song performed by Lou Reed
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shut Down
Tach it up, tach it up
Buddy gonna shut you down
It happened on the strip where the road is wide
Two cool sharps standin side by side
Yeah, my fuel injected stingray and a four-thirteen
Were revvin up our engines and it sounds real mean
Tach it up, tach it up
Buddy gonna shut you down
Declinin numbers at an even rate
At the count of one we both accelerate
My stingray is light the slicks are startin to spin
But the four-thirteens really diggen in
Gotta be cool now power shift here we go
Superstock dodge is winding out in low
But my fuel injected stingrays really startin to go
Im gettin the traction Im ridin the clutch
My pressure plates burnin that machines too much
Pedals to the floor hear the dual quads drink
And now the four-thirteens lead is startin to shrink
Hes powered by ram induction but its understood
I got a fuel injected engine sittin under my hood
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
Shut it off, shut it off buddy now I shut you down
song performed by Beach Boys
Added by Lucian Velea
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Like A Guitar Solo Scream
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
'Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that up.
And keep your mouth shut!
Go bottled that...
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh! '
Oh some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
Some...
People,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
While others love to stir up stuff.
And then there's people...
Who love to fuss.
And then there's people...
Who love to anger.
And...
Love they do to fist-i-cuff.
And love they do to rush cuss.
Wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wah-wahhh!
Ohhhh...
Some people,
With their mouths shut.
Just look through peepholes,
With their mouths shut.
And keep their feelings,
Bottled up!
While others love to stir up stuff.
But not you,
You want to be heard...
Like a soloist with nerve.
Wah-wah-wah.
You want to be heard...
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Suggested by Matthew Arnold's Stanzas
That one long dirge-moan sad and deep,
Low, muffled by the solemn stress
Of such emotion as doth steep
The soul in brooding quietness,
Befits our anguished time too well,
Whose Life-march is a funeral knell.
Dirge for a mighty Creed outworn-
Its spirit fading from the earth,
Its mouldering body left forlorn:
Weak idol! feeding scornful mirth
In shallow hearts; divine no more
Save to some ignorant pagan poor;
And some who know how by Its light
The past world well did walk and live,
And feel It even now more bright
Than any lamp mere men can give;
So cling to It with yearning faith,
Yet own It almost quenched in death:
While many who win wealth and power
And honours serving at Its shrine,
Rather than lose their worldly dower
Proclaim their dead thing 'Life divine';
And sacrifice to coward lust
Their own souls' truth, a peoplc's trust.
And will none mourn the mighty Dead,
Pillar of heavenly fire and cloud,
Which through this life's wild desert led
For whole millenniums each grand crowd
Of sages, bards, saints, heroes, all
Whose names we glory to recall?
None mourn Him, dead, with deep-moved soul,
Whom, living, all our sires adored?
None feel the heavy darkness roll
Stifling about us, when the Lord
Leaves us to walk by our own light,
That one pale speck in boundless Night?--
That earthly lamp when sun and star,
When all the heavenly lights are lost:
Does it shed radiance round afar?
Our pathway is by deep gulfs cross'd
It fathoms none. We lift it high:
It casts not one beam on the sky.
If He thus died as no more fit
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
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The Growth of Love
1
They that in play can do the thing they would,
Having an instinct throned in reason's place,
--And every perfect action hath the grace
Of indolence or thoughtless hardihood--
These are the best: yet be there workmen good
Who lose in earnestness control of face,
Or reckon means, and rapt in effort base
Reach to their end by steps well understood.
Me whom thou sawest of late strive with the pains
Of one who spends his strength to rule his nerve,
--Even as a painter breathlessly who stains
His scarcely moving hand lest it should swerve--
Behold me, now that I have cast my chains,
Master of the art which for thy sake I serve.
2
For thou art mine: and now I am ashamed
To have uséd means to win so pure acquist,
And of my trembling fear that might have misst
Thro' very care the gold at which I aim'd;
And am as happy but to hear thee named,
As are those gentle souls by angels kisst
In pictures seen leaving their marble cist
To go before the throne of grace unblamed.
Nor surer am I water hath the skill
To quench my thirst, or that my strength is freed
In delicate ordination as I will,
Than that to be myself is all I need
For thee to be most mine: so I stand still,
And save to taste my joy no more take heed.
3
The whole world now is but the minister
Of thee to me: I see no other scheme
But universal love, from timeless dream
Waking to thee his joy's interpreter.
I walk around and in the fields confer
Of love at large with tree and flower and stream,
And list the lark descant upon my theme,
Heaven's musical accepted worshipper.
Thy smile outfaceth ill: and that old feud
'Twixt things and me is quash'd in our new truce;
And nature now dearly with thee endued
No more in shame ponders her old excuse,
But quite forgets her frowns and antics rude,
So kindly hath she grown to her new use.
4
[...] Read more
poem by Robert Seymour Bridges
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The Demoniac of Gadara
A GADARENE.
He hath escaped, hath plucked his chains asunder,
And broken his fetters; always night and day
Is in the mountains here, and in the tombs,
Crying aloud, and cutting himself with stones,
Exceeding fierce, so that no man can tame him!
THE DEMONIAC from above, unseen.
O Aschmedai! O Aschmedai, have pity!
A GADARENE.
Listen! It is his voice! Go warn the people
Just landing from the lake!
THE DEMONIAC.
O Aschmedai!
Thou angel of the bottomless pit, have pity!
It was enough to hurl King Solomon,
On whom be peace! two hundred leagues away
Into the country, and to make him scullion
In the kitchen of the King of Maschkemen!
Why dost thou hurl me here among these rocks,
And cut me with these stones?
A GADARENE.
He raves and mutters
He knows not what.
THE DEMONIAC, appearing from a tomb among the rocks.
The wild cock Tarnegal
Singeth to me, and bids me to the banquet,
Where all the Jews shall come; for they have slain
Behemoth the great ox, who daily cropped
A thousand hills for food, and at a draught
Drank up the river Jordan, and have slain
The huge Leviathan, and stretched his skin
Upon the high walls of Jerusalem,
And made them shine from one end of the world
Unto the other; and the fowl Barjuchne,
Whose outspread wings eclipse the sun, and make
Midnight at noon o'er all the continents!
And we shall drink the wine of Paradise
From Adam's cellars.
A GADARENE.
O thou unclean spirit!
THE DEMONIAC, hurling down a stone.
This is the wonderful Barjuchne's egg,
That fell out of her nest, and broke to pieces
[...] Read more
poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
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An Hymne In Honour Of Love
Love, that long since hast to thy mighty powre
Perforce subdude my poor captived hart,
And raging now therein with restlesse stowre,
Doest tyrannize in everie weaker part,
Faine would I seeke to ease my bitter smart
By any service I might do to thee,
Or ought that else might to thee pleasing bee.
And now t'asswage the force of this new flame,
And make thee more propitious in my need,
I meane to sing the praises of thy name,
And thy victorious conquests to areed,
By which thou madest many harts to bleed
Of mighty victors, with wide wounds embrewed,
And by thy cruell darts to thee subdewed.
Onely I fear my wits, enfeebled late
Through the sharp sorrowes which thou hast me bred,
Should faint, and words should faile me to relate
The wondrous triumphs of thy great god-hed:
But, if thou wouldst vouchsafe to overspred
Me with the shadow of thy gentle wing,
I should enabled be thy actes to sing.
Come, then, O come, thou mightie God of Love!
Out of thy silver bowres and secret blisse,
Where thou dost sit in Venus lap above,
Bathing thy wings in her ambrosial kisse, 25
That sweeter farre than any nectar is,
Come softly, and my feeble breast inspire
With gentle furie, kindled of thy fire.
And ye, sweet Muses! which have often proved
The piercing points of his avengefull darts,
And ye, fair Nimphs! which oftentimes have loved
The cruel worker of your kindly smarts,
Prepare yourselves, and open wide your harts
For to receive the triumph of your glorie,
That made you merie oft when ye were sorrie.
And ye, faire blossoms of youths wanton breed!
Which in the conquests of your beautie bost,
Wherewith your lovers feeble eyes you feed,
But sterve their harts, that needeth nourture most,
Prepare your selves to march amongst his host,
And all the way this sacred hymne do sing,
Made in the honor of your soveraigne king.
Great God of Might, that reignest in the mynd,
And all the bodie to thy hest doest frame,
[...] Read more
poem by Edmund Spenser
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The Birth of The War-God (Canto Sixth ) - Uma's Espousals
Now gentle Umá bade a damsel bear
To Śiva, Soul of All, her maiden prayer:
'Wait the high sanction of Himálaya's will,
And ask his daughter from the royal hill.'
Then ere the God, her own dear Lord, replied,
In blushing loveliness she sought his side.
Thus the young mango hails the approaching spring
By its own tuneful bird's sweet welcoming.
In Umá's ear he softly whispered, yea,
Then scarce could tear him from her arms away.
Swift with a thought he summoned from above
The Seven bright Saints to bear his tale of love.
They came, and She, the Heavenly Dame, was there,
Lighting with glories all the radiant air;
Just freshly bathed in sacred Gangá's tide,
Gemmed with the dancing flowers that deck her side,
And richly scented with the nectarous rill
That heavenly elephants from their brows distil.
Fair strings of pearl their radiant fingers hold,
Clothed are their limbs in hermit-coats of gold;
Their rosaries, large gems of countless price,
Shone like the fruit that glows in Paradise,
As though the glorious trees that blossom there
Had sought the forest for a life of prayer.
With all his thousand beams the God of Day,
Urging his coursers down the sloping way,
His banner furled at the approach of night,
Looks up in reverence on those lords of light.
Ancient creators: thus the wise, who know,
Gave them a name in ages long ago:
With Brahmá joining in creation's plan,
And perfecting the work His will began;
Still firm in penance, though the hermit-vow
Bears a ripe harvest for the sages now.
Brightest in glory 'mid that glorious band
See the fair Queen, the Heavenly Lady, stand.
Fixing her loving eyes upon her spouse,
She seemed sent forth to crown the sage's vows
With sweet immortal joy, the dearest prize
Strong prayer could merit from the envious skies.
With equal honour on the Queen and all
Did the kind glance of Śiva's welcome fall.
No partial favour by the good is shown:
They count not station, but the deed alone.
So fair she shone upon his raptured view,
He longed for wedlock's heavenly pleasures too.
What hath such power to lead the soul above
By virtue's pleasant path as wedded love!
Scarce had the holy motive lent its aid
To knit great Śiva to the Mountain-Maid,
[...] Read more
poem by Kalidasa
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The Castle Of Indolence
The castle hight of Indolence,
And its false luxury;
Where for a little time, alas!
We lived right jollily.
O mortal man, who livest here by toil,
Do not complain of this thy hard estate;
That like an emmet thou must ever moil,
Is a sad sentence of an ancient date:
And, certes, there is for it reason great;
For, though sometimes it makes thee weep and wail,
And curse thy star, and early drudge and late;
Withouten that would come a heavier bale,
Loose life, unruly passions, and diseases pale.
In lowly dale, fast by a river's side,
With woody hill o'er hill encompass'd round,
A most enchanting wizard did abide,
Than whom a fiend more fell is no where found.
It was, I ween, a lovely spot of ground;
And there a season atween June and May,
Half prankt with spring, with summer half imbrown'd,
A listless climate made, where, sooth to say,
No living wight could work, ne cared even for play.
Was nought around but images of rest:
Sleep-soothing groves, and quiet lawns between;
And flowery beds that slumbrous influence kest,
From poppies breathed; and beds of pleasant green,
Where never yet was creeping creature seen.
Meantime, unnumber'd glittering streamlets play'd,
And hurled every where their waters sheen;
That, as they bicker'd through the sunny glade,
Though restless still themselves, a lulling murmur made.
Join'd to the prattle of the purling rills
Were heard the lowing herds along the vale,
And flocks loud bleating from the distant hills,
And vacant shepherds piping in the dale:
And, now and then, sweet Philomel would wail,
Or stock-doves plain amid the forest deep,
That drowsy rustled to the sighing gale;
And still a coil the grasshopper did keep;
Yet all these sounds yblent inclined all to sleep.
Full in the passage of the vale, above,
A sable, silent, solemn forest stood;
Where nought but shadowy forms was seen to move,
As Idless fancied in her dreaming mood:
And up the hills, on either side, a wood
Of blackening pines, aye waving to and fro,
Sent forth a sleepy horror through the blood;
And where this valley winded out, below,
The murmuring main was heard, and scarcely heard, to flow.
[...] Read more
poem by James Thomson
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Paradise Lost: Book 09
No more of talk where God or Angel guest
With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd,
To sit indulgent, and with him partake
Rural repast; permitting him the while
Venial discourse unblam'd. I now must change
Those notes to tragick; foul distrust, and breach
Disloyal on the part of Man, revolt,
And disobedience: on the part of Heaven
Now alienated, distance and distaste,
Anger and just rebuke, and judgement given,
That brought into this world a world of woe,
Sin and her shadow Death, and Misery
Death's harbinger: Sad talk!yet argument
Not less but more heroick than the wrath
Of stern Achilles on his foe pursued
Thrice fugitive about Troy wall; or rage
Of Turnus for Lavinia disespous'd;
Or Neptune's ire, or Juno's, that so long
Perplexed the Greek, and Cytherea's son:
If answerable style I can obtain
Of my celestial patroness, who deigns
Her nightly visitation unimplor'd,
And dictates to me slumbering; or inspires
Easy my unpremeditated verse:
Since first this subject for heroick song
Pleas'd me long choosing, and beginning late;
Not sedulous by nature to indite
Wars, hitherto the only argument
Heroick deem'd chief mastery to dissect
With long and tedious havock fabled knights
In battles feign'd; the better fortitude
Of patience and heroick martyrdom
Unsung; or to describe races and games,
Or tilting furniture, imblazon'd shields,
Impresses quaint, caparisons and steeds,
Bases and tinsel trappings, gorgeous knights
At joust and tournament; then marshall'd feast
Serv'd up in hall with sewers and seneshals;
The skill of artifice or office mean,
Not that which justly gives heroick name
To person, or to poem. Me, of these
Nor skill'd nor studious, higher argument
Remains; sufficient of itself to raise
That name, unless an age too late, or cold
Climate, or years, damp my intended wing
Depress'd; and much they may, if all be mine,
Not hers, who brings it nightly to my ear.
The sun was sunk, and after him the star
Of Hesperus, whose office is to bring
[...] Read more
poem by John Milton
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Samson Agonistes (excerpts)
[Samson's Opening Speech]
A little onward lend thy guiding hand
To these dark steps, a little further on;
For yonder bank hath choice of sun or shade,
There I am wont to sit, when any chance
Relieves me from my task of servile toil,
Daily in the common prison else enjoin'd me,
Where I a prisoner chain'd, scarce freely draw
The air imprison'd also, close and damp,
Unwholesome draught: but here I feel amends,
The breath of Heav'n fresh-blowing, pure and sweet,
With day-spring born; here leave me to respire.
This day a solemn feast the people hold
To Dagon, their sea-idol, and forbid
Laborious works; unwillingly this rest
Their superstition yields me; hence with leave
Retiring from the popular noise, I seek
This unfrequented place to find some ease;
Ease to the body some, none to the mind
From restless thoughts, that like a deadly swarm
Of hornets arm'd, no sooner found alone,
But rush upon me thronging, and present
Times past, what once I was, and what am now.
O wherefore was my birth from Heaven foretold
Twice by an angel, who at last in sight
Of both my parents all in flames ascended
From off the altar, where an off'ring burn'd,
As in a fiery column charioting
His godlike presence, and from some great act
Of benefit reveal'd to Abraham's race?
Why was my breeding order'd and prescrib'd
As of a person separate to God,
Design'd for great exploits; if I must die
Betray'd, captiv'd, and both my eyes put out,
Made of my enemies the scorn and gaze;
To grind in brazen fetters under task
With this Heav'n-gifted strength? O glorious strength
Put to the labour of a beast, debas'd
Lower than bondslave! Promise was that I
Should Israel from Philistian yoke deliver;
Ask for this great deliverer now, and find him
Eyeless in Gaza at the mill with slaves,
Himself in bonds under Philistian yoke.
Yet stay, let me not rashly call in doubt
Divine prediction; what if all foretold
Had been fulfill'd but through mine own default,
Whom have I to complain of but myself?
Who this high gift of strength committed to me,
In what part lodg'd, how easily bereft me,
Under the seal of silence could not keep,
[...] Read more
poem by John Milton
Added by Poetry Lover
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Get Up. Shut Up. And Move
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
If you want things to improve,
You've got to...
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Nobody's living their life for you.
While you sit back,
To approve what they do!
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Nobody is here to pamper you.
You've been much too spoiled,
And selfish too!
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
Get up.
Shut up,
And move.
[...] Read more
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Added by Poetry Lover
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Under The Weather
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
I wish that I was still fifteen
Debbie Harry and Steve McQueen
I found the angel in my dream, sucked her dry
and cut her wing
LA foodstore cabinet
Get up, shut up, give me Nurofen Plus
Shut up, it hurts, feel I've been hit by a bus
Get up, shut up, you know you don't understand
I'm feeling under the weather (weather)
From the womb, into school
Changing faces, breaking rules
Circumstances make you bleed
Sew the wounds so you will heal
'Cause there's no substitute for pain
Histrionics, broken frames
Build a fire to thaw my brain
LA foodstore cabinet
Get up, shut up, give me Nurofen Plus
Shut up, it hurts, feel I've been hit by a bus
Get up, shut up, you know you don't understand
I'm feeling under the weather (weather)
I don't know why I do this time and time again
'Cause all my drowning sorrows became my friends
Get up, shut up
Get up, shut up
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
Yeah, I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
LA foodstore cabinet
Get up, shut up, give me Nurofen Plus
Shut up, it hurts, feel I've been hit by a bus
Get up, shut up, you know you don't understand
I'm feeling under the weather (weather)
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
I got a pain in my sick brain
Two red eyes and broken veins
I got a hand inside my head
A chainsaw cutting through my bed
song performed by Feeder
Added by Lucian Velea
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Shut Up
You say,
I should do it differently.
I dont,
Necessarily agree.
Stand up!
Sit down!
Be nice!
Did ya hear me ask for your advice?
Dont bother,
Trying to tell me your beliefs.
Dont want to,
Know which way its good to be.
Do this!
Do that!
On track!
Do me a favor and dont talk back!
Round and round,
But the conversation always ends where it began.
Round and round,
And I need a vacation.
My god,
Ive had it from you!
Shut up!
Dont want to hear your voice.
Shut up!
Im sick of all the noise.
Theres nothing you can say to me,
So get away from me.
Shut up!
Blah blah, blah blah, blah blah, blah blah.
Thats what,
It sounds like you said to me.
You nag and you brag and I gag,
Theres so much beauty in what we have.
You must,
Have better things that you can do.
Or just,
Love all around me too.
What you want,
What I need.
Oh please!
I think you get off,
On hearing yourself speak.
Round and round,
But the conversation always ends where it began.
Round and round,
And I need a vacation.
My god,
Ive had it from you!
Shut up!
[...] Read more
song performed by Kelly Osbourne
Added by Lucian Velea
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