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The weekends are for rest and rejuvenation
Saturdays for my composure and reflection
And Sundays for fellowship and restoration
Mondays, back to the regular grind of work

How I wish I could skip the other three days
Tuesdays, Wednesdays and Thursdays readily,
And proceed straight into Friday’s preparation
And into my weekend of rest and rejuvenation

But what if Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday,
Do hold the keys, and all the clicks that count
That would make my favorite days worthwhile
Would I readily wish or prefer to skip any day?

While I look forward to the weekends for rest
While each day lends itself to me generously
I would welcome it with grateful anticipation
To enjoy each moment as it fades into the past

I will accept each day without discrimination
And work while at work, and rest while at rest
To experience full gamut of labor and leisure
To live each day fully, to redeem it faithfully

poem by Oyekake Satty Joshua
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Le Grind

So u found me
Good, Im glad
This is prince
The cool of cools
Some of u may not know this
But some of u may know
Some of u may not want 2 know
We r here 2 do service
Please dont try 2 stop us
4 we come regardless
4 we r strong as we r intelligent
So come vibe with us
Welcome to the funk bible
The new testament
People get ready, nouveau dance here
All the girls and all the boys,
Get close, have no fear, (have no fear)
Were gonna do le grind yall
Got u where I want u
And girl its going 2 feel so good, (feel so good)
Up and down, up and down, on the beat yall
Like a pony would, pony would
Le grind
All the boys, grab a girl, get down on the floor
This funky beats gonna show u,
Gonna show u what your hips r made 4
Nouveau grind, come on (people)
People its much 2 late,
Its much 2 late 2 be shy
London, what does big ben say?
(time 2 do the grind)
No hear u say (time 2 do the grind)
Le grind
Baby, I gotcha where I wantcha,
Now I gotcha where I wantcha, wantcha
Ce soir, [la chantez], all night long (all night long)
Ce soir, [la chantez], all night long (all night long)
{{ french: tonight, sing it }}
Hey pretty mama, with the long hair
Is that your boyfriend?
Ha, I dont care
Cuz I can do, said I can do
Tricks he can never do
When I get naked, well see the real u
Am I getting thru? (grind)
I gotcha where I wantcha (baby)
Baby, baby
Piano man, put it where it feel good
Grind, grind, grind, grind
Le grind, grind, le grind, grind

[...] Read more

song performed by Prince
Added by Lucian Velea
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Party People... Friday Night

Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Just another day, sitting watching the clock
Tick tock, tick tock, but it feels like its stopped
Wishing time away, pushing monday through to friday
Im dreaming of the crowd; everybodys hanging out
Soft tops down, and were pumping the sounds
I can feel the vibe as were cruising the town
I cant wait til friday comes around
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
So, you all ready?
We just keep rocking on
Feeling good
Just til the break of dawn
Do what I gotta do, Ill do what they say,
But I swear that ship is coming my way
Im gonna kiss this place goodbye
Im gonna chase my destiny
Im gonna make it friday every day
When the working week is done, got my money, and now, Im gonna get
Some
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night
Bring, bring, telephone rings; tell me, baby, what youre saying
I know, sometimes, its hard to take it; trust me, baby, just believe
It
Monday, I know it goes so slow; tuesday, oh, I just dont know
Wednesday drives you crazy; thursdays over, man, its friday
Party, people, hey, its friday night
Were gonna rock this joint until the morning light
Crowd is jumping, hey, it feels all right
Forget monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, hey, its friday night

song performed by 911
Added by Lucian Velea
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Weekend Love

[Queen Latifah]
Weekend love
Gonna spend a weekend love
Weekend love
Just a case of weekend love
[Queen Latifah]
Have you been misled
Anything I said
Didn't mean to turn you on
The bite is oh so strong
You got things to do
But I have got things too
So I'll catch you on the weekend
Mondays to Fridays I don't see you then
[Unknown Reggae Artist]
A W-E-E-K and a E-N-D
And a L-O-V-E we were meant to be
A W-E-E-K, a E-N-D
L-O-V-E we were meant to be
[Queen Latifah]
Weekend love
Gonna spend a weekend love
Weekend love
Just a case of weekend love
[Queen Latifah]
Seems it's been so long
Since you thrilled me with your charms
I tenderly imagine me
Resting in your arms
You've got things to do
And I have got things too
So I'll catch you on the weekend
Mondays to Fridays, I don't see you then
[Unknown Reggae Artist]
Because we're sorry when we part
And we love when we meet
I know we only do that ?
Once in a week
Sorry when we part
And we love when we meet
I know we only do that ?
Once in a week
[Unknown Reggae Artist]
I know, you know
We all occupied
From our own love life
This has been denied
Many feelins high
Many tears of pride
But by the weekend

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song performed by Queen Latifah
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thursdays Child

All of my life Ive tried so hard
Doing my best with what I had
Nothing much happened all the same
Something about me stood apart
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail
Maybe Im born right out of my time
Breaking my life in two
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Now that I really got a chance
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh )
Everythings falling into place
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Seeing my past to let it go
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Only for you I dont regret
And I was thursdays child
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
Sometimes I cry my heart to sleep
Shuffling days and lonesome nights
Sometimes my courage fell to my feet
Lucky old son is in my sky
Nothing prepared me for your smile
Lighting the darkness of my soul
Innocence in your arms
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Now that I really got a chance
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh )
Oh ho, everythings falling into place
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Seeing my past to let it go
(throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Only for you I dont regret
And I was thursdays child
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
Thursdays child
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
Thursdays child
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)
(monday, tuesday, wednesday, born I was)

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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Mondays Rain

I can see the sun shinin down on me
Is it you my love that I can see
Dont let me down
Dont let me down
Dont let me walk to mondays rain (mondays rain)
To mondays rain (mondays rain)
In this my life , I walk in light
You are my love so baby Im all right
Dont let me down , baby
Dont let me down
Oh baby, please dont let me walk in mondays rain (mondays rain)
In mondays rain (mondays rain)
(break)
Ah....
Evry man alive has got to have someone
So what will I do when baby you are gone
Dont let me down
Dont walk on me
My sunday sunshine
Hide mondays rain (mondays rain)
Hide mondays rain (mondays rain)
Mondays rain (mondays rain) ah...

song performed by Bee Gees
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Weekend Song

Monday morning is not monday morning
'till taylor has his coffee
Friday night is not friday night
'till jesse leaves the room sweaty
Tuesday morning is not tuesday morning
'till nick has his talk with his son
Thursday night is not thursday night
'till chris has sex with his bass
Come on to the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause there's too much time to think
And there will be nice skies
Tuesday morning is wednesday afternoon
When you cry all night
Wednesday early we fall into work
All caught up in the day by day
Thursday morning is not thursday morning
'till (alanis???) says how's your life
How's your life?
Yeah how's your life
How's your life?
Come on to the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get by
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause there's too much time to think and not much time to cry
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause the weekend we'll be high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause there'll be no time but we'll get by
What if there were no more mama's boys
What if no one shares their humble appearance
What there were no consequences
What if there were no more arguments
Well that'd be a shame
Wouldn't that be impossible
And you would be bored
'cause you wouldn't want it a little too late...
Hold on 'till the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get by
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause the man upstairs has the really nice skies
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause the weekend i'll get high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'cause we may look strange but we surely will get by
What if there were no more mama's boys
What if we all had no thinking together
Wouldn't that be a shame...
Wouldn't that be impossible

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song performed by Alanis Morissette
Added by Lucian Velea
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Wednesday's Child (Sheffield Wednesday Soccer Club)

It eats soccer. It breathes soccer. It lives soccer. It fades when it's team fades and it blooms when it's team blooms. It has the letters S.W. permanently etched upon it's brain and it probably even arranges it's Monopoly money in S.W. formations. What is it, you ask? It's a soccer fan. You knew that, didn't you? But it isn't just any soccer fan. It is specifically a Sheffield Wednesday soccer fan. Or addict, for want of a better word.

Yes, of course, even I know about Liverpool, Everton, Arsenal and Man. United fans. They're the normal, run-of-the-mill type but Owls supporters are really Something Else!

I have had the somewhat dubious good fortune of becoming rather well acquainted with one of these strange 'animals' but until today, I'd managed to evade any one-to-one discourse on the merits or demerits of one man's passion for his team. On the face of it, you could say I asked for it. In a weak moment, I queried how his team had fared over the past week or so. It was like asking a hypochondriac the state of his health.

Well, there I was, supposedly having a cup of tea with his wife, my friend Sheila. But Sheila knew the signs and, together with two equally clued-up daughters, had opportunely beaten a hasty retreat into the garden. They had long since paid their dues. Now, it was my turn.

It was a reasonably tentative beginning. It is more than probable that Ken, the addict, suspected I would never stay the course but feeling somewhat emotionally trapped by the knowledge that he had no sons with whom to share his enthrallment of the game, what else could I do but don my interested-looking mask, take a deep breath and settle back to hear him out. By tacit consent, we both knew that I was a victim of sorts. Destiny rides again!

My heart sunk a little when I realised that he was starting from scratch. From the actual day when his team first started playing. His enthusiasm was boundless but somehow I found myself becoming absorbed in what he was saying. His eyes took on a bright, azure sparkle and his mouth was motoring at twice the speed of sound as it travelled back and forth in time. I stared in mute fascination. This was for real! This was the guy's life. Dear Lord, where was I when enthusiasm for anything was dished out? I raised my eyes Heavenwards and found myself looking straight into those of a grey, woolly owl who was peering down at me from a built-in show-case. The Sheffield Wednesday Football Club mascot. I knew I was a gonner when I found myself asking how the Club had come to be so named.

Sheffield Wednesday, as we know it today, Ken told me, came into being in 1867 as the football section of the Wednesday Cricket Club, which had been in existence since 1820. The cricket club had been the creation of a group of Sheffield craftsmen who gave it the name 'Wednesday' for the simple reason that that was the day when they took regular afternoons off to pursue their sporting enthusiasms.

Not surprisingly, perhaps, the meeting at which the football section was formed took place on a Wednesday and this, at a local sporting pub, The Adelphi. Members of the cricket club called the meeting because they wanted a way of keeping everybody together during the winter months but the step was probably partly inspired by the dramatic increase in football's popularity in the town over the previous ten years.

Ken's eyes misted over somewhat as he proudly told me that it had been Sheffield who had led the way in organised football even before the birth of the national FA in 1863. So Wednesday no doubt felt it appropriate to have their own football section. At the very least, it would mean that their players would not be tempted to drift off to other clubs at the end of the summer and forget to return in the following spring.

The founders could not have imagined that the infant football section would become the dominant partner. So strong, in fact, that within sixteen years it would break free and Wednesday Football Club would become one of the most famous names in English football - and a force in the professional game to boot (no pun intended!) Would they also have believed that the Cricket Club would survive only until 1924 and then die through lack of support, so that today, it is all but forgotten.

By now, there was no doubt that Ken knew he had my attention for I was leaning forward in my chair, hanging onto every word. Vortex-like, my concentration was being pulled and drawn into the centre of what could only be described as the secret world of the soccer-addict; a passionate and breathtaking intensity which would encompass anything related thereto, from a humble soccer boot to a moth-eaten ticket to some long-ago and memorable match played.

'Look! ' he said, paging through a well-thumbed book, 'here's a picture of Wednesday's first match at Olive Grove. This site was bought from the Duke of Norfolk. Did you know that? ' As if I would! But no reply was necessary as he pressed on regardless to tell me about how officials at the time were unable to persuade either Preston or Aston Villa to provide the opposition for a match but Blackburn Rovers did decide to accept the invitation to play. Things weren't going too well but I wanted to fall off my chair to show him how thrilled I was too when Wednesday recovered from a three-goal deficit to draw 4-4 but he wouldn't have noticed. He was in another world.

And then he was down in the depths again as he showed me pictures of headlines proclaiming how Dooley had broken his leg at Deepdale way back in 1953. It was to be the end of the big centre-forward's career. Oh, shame, Ken, I said. And I really meant it.

1954-55 proved to be a disastrous season with Wednesday finishing bottom of the table, nine points below relegation companions Leicester City. The Owls won only 8 games, losing 24 and conceding 100 goals. However, Ken assured me, they won the Second Division Championship in 1955-56 with three points to spare and in the following season they finished mid-table. But, oh dear, by 1957-58 they were down again. The Addict's voice faded and I thought he had been called by the angels.

'And then....? ' I encouraged. Momentarily, he seemed to surface.

'Go on, get along with you, ' he said with a half-smile, 'you're not really interested.'

'Oh, I am, I am, ' I protested gamely, whereupon he went on to tell me all about the so-called bribes scandal or betting-coup revelations which broke in the Sunday newspapers of 1964. Not only did Wednesday suffer in terms of its reputation but it also lost two of its best players.

The situation sounded sufficiently grave for me to try my mournful-look but no, it wasn't necessary as The Addict changed course and went on to tell me the good news about how in 1971, that bloke Dooley, (who'd broken his leg 18 years or so earlier and subsequently had to have it amputated) had been made manager of the club. He was still an idol in the city and the folk-hero of Hillsborough. But his magic was limited and he proved that he was as human as anyone else in his lack of anticipated performance.

But Sheila was rattling crockery in the kitchen and the thought of a nice cup of tea was becoming more and more enticing. Escape was out of the question. We still had about twenty years more to work through! There's a limit to a body's endurance and a feminine mind's appreciation of a predominantly masculine interest.

So, a little less stoically now, I went 'up' with the Owls and 'down' with the Owls as we travelled through from one Division to another over a timespan of many years. But much of their pain was to dissolve in relief when in 1985, they reached their highest position for 25 years by coming fifth in the FA Cup semi-Final. Even if they did lose to Everton.

In that same year, Wednesday were to equalise in the dying seconds of the match with Chelsea. They were 3-O up at half-time and I can well imagine how Ken had nearly fallen off his chair when hearing on the BBC World Service later that evening that the game had ended at 4-4. He still hasn't got over the sheer horror of it all.

There was no stopping him now and I just had to give in and hear about how the next time round, Chelsea lost the toss with the Owls' Chairman tossing the coin and the replay going to Stamford Bridge. Wednesday lost 2-1 proving that the Chelsea bogey had struck again. 'We can't even beat a bunch of pensioners, ' the Addict grinned. I was impressed by his ability not to take himself and his beloved team too seriously.

'And last year, you actually visited the Club, didn't you? ' I asked, determined to hastily gobble up the few remaining years so that I could go and have my tea. I knew of course that the highlight of his addicthood had been when Wednesday were promoted to First Division by beating Man. United in the Rumbelows League Cup Final at Wembley and didn't want to go into all that lot again. Like I said, there's a limit........

'Ah yes, ' he replied dreamily. Even he was beginning to tire. But no, not yet. I had a feeling we were about to move into extra time. More like injury-time, one would say.

'Come, ' he said, leading me towards a cupboard filled with everything and anything that could have any association whatsoever with his team. I'd seen it all before and I would see it again, but there's an indisputable thrill of sharing both old-time and current mementoes and memorabilia of a soccer club, some six thousand miles away, right here in the living room of one of its most ardent supporters.

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poem by Margaret Kollmer
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I Don't Know

Monday morning is not Monday morning 'till Taylor has his coffee
Friday night is not Friday night 'till Jessie leaves the room sweaty
Tuesday morning is not Tuesday morning 'till Nick has his talk with his son
Thursday night is not Thursday night 'till Chris has sex with his bass
Come on to the Weekend
'Cause the Weekend I'll get by
Hold off 'till the Weekend
'Cause there's too much time bein' merrily nice guys
Tuesday morning is Wednesday afternoon when you cry all night
Wednesday early we fall into what I'll Phil-a-del-ph-i-a
Thursday morning is not Thursday morning 'till one of us says
How's your life
How's your life?
Yeah how's your life
How's your life?
Come on to the weekend
'Cause the weekend I'll get by
Hold off 'till the weekend
'Cause there's too much time to think and not much time to cry
Hold off 'till the weekend
'Cause the weekend we'll be high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'Cause we may look tired, but we'll get by
What if there were no more mama's boys
What if no one shared their humble appearance
What there were no consequences
What if there were no more arguments
Well that'd be a shame
And that'd be impossible
And you would be bored
'Cause you wouldn't want it any other way
Hold on 'till the weekend
'Cause the weekend I'll get by
Hold off 'till the weekend
'Cause we may look scared, but we're really nice guys
Hold off 'till the weekend
'Cause the weekend I'll get high
Hold off 'till the weekend
'Cause we may look strange but we surely will get by
What if there were no more mama's boys
What if we all had no thinking together
Would that be a shame...
And that'd be impossible
'Cause you would be bored
'Cause you wouldn't want it any other way

song performed by Alanis Morissette
Added by Lucian Velea
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On Tuesday

On tuesday, you came in from the storm.
On tuesday, you came and made me warm,
On tuesday.
On tuesday, you made me fly, much higher than before
On tuesday, you made me cry, and made me smile for more
Cause, love is something I adore
On tuesday.
On tuesday, you saved my life, I was nothing but a wall
On tuesday you made me high, I was flying on the floor
Cause, love is something I adore
On tuesday.
It was only make believe, then along came tuesday
Changed everything, on tuesday
On tuesday, you wave goodby, you step into the storm
On tuesday, you save my life, a smile will keep me warm
On tuesday, you made me cry, like a child being born
On tuesday, you made me high, Ill be flying ever more
Cause, love is something I adore
On tuesday
It was only make believe.
Then along came tuesday
Changed everything
On tuesday.....

song performed by Men Without Hats
Added by Lucian Velea
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I Dont Like Mondays

The silicon chip inside her head,
Got switched to overload
Nobodys gonna go to school today,
Shes gonna make them stay at home,
And daddy doesnt understand it,
He always said she was good as gold,
And he can see (no reasons)
cause there are (no reasons)
What reason do you need to be shown
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
I want to shoot the whole day down
The telex machine is kept so clean
And it types to a waiting world,
Her mother feels so shocked
Fathers world is rocked
And their thoughts turn to
Their own little girl
Well sweet 16 aint she peachy keen,
And it aint so neat to admit defeat,
There could be (no reasons)
Because there are (no reasons)
What reasons do you need, oh,
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
Im gonna shoot the whole day down, down, down
Ill shoot it all down
And all the playings stopped in the playground now
She wants to play with her toys a while
And school is out, oh and soon we will learn that
The lesson today is how to die
And then the bullhorn crackles,
And the captain tackles
With the problems and the hows and whys
And he can see (no reasons)
cause there are (no reasons)
What reasons do you need to die, die, oh
And the silicon chip inside her head
Gets switched to overload, oh
And nobodys gonna go to school today
Shes gonna make them stay at home
And daddy doesnt understand it
He always said she was good as gold
And he could see (no reasons)
cause there are (no reasons)
What reason do you need to be shown
(tell me why) I dont like mondays
(tell me why) I dont like mondays

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song performed by Bon Jovi
Added by Lucian Velea
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Thurday's Child

All of my life I've tried so hard
Doing my best with what I had
Nothing much happened all the same
Something about me stood apart
A whisper of hope that seemed to fail
Maybe I'm born right out of my time
Breaking my life in two
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Now that I really got a chance
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh )
Everything's falling into place
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Seeing my past to let it go
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Only for you I don't regret
And I was Thursday's child
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
Sometimes I cry my heart to sleep
Shuffling days and lonesome nights
Sometimes my courage fell to my feet
Lucky old son is in my sky
Nothing prepared me for your smile
Lighting the darkness of my soul
Innocence in your arms
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Now that I really got a chance
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh )
Oh ho, everything's falling into place
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Seeing my past to let it go
(Throw me tomorrow, oh oh)
Only for you I don't regret
And I was Thursday's child
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
Thursday's child
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
Thursday's child
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)
(Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, born I was)

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Prince Hohenstiel-Schwangau, Saviour of Society

Epigraph

Υδραν φονεύσας, μυρίων τ᾽ ἄλλων πόνων
διῆλθον ἀγέλας . . .
τὸ λοίσθιον δὲ τόνδ᾽ ἔτλην τάλας πόνον,
. . . δῶμα θριγκῶσαι κακοῖς.

I slew the Hydra, and from labour pass'd
To labour — tribes of labours! Till, at last,
Attempting one more labour, in a trice,
Alack, with ills I crowned the edifice.

You have seen better days, dear? So have I —
And worse too, for they brought no such bud-mouth
As yours to lisp "You wish you knew me!" Well,
Wise men, 't is said, have sometimes wished the same,
And wished and had their trouble for their pains.
Suppose my Œdipus should lurk at last
Under a pork-pie hat and crinoline,
And, latish, pounce on Sphynx in Leicester Square?
Or likelier, what if Sphynx in wise old age,
Grown sick of snapping foolish people's heads,
And jealous for her riddle's proper rede, —
Jealous that the good trick which served the turn
Have justice rendered it, nor class one day
With friend Home's stilts and tongs and medium-ware,—
What if the once redoubted Sphynx, I say,
(Because night draws on, and the sands increase,
And desert-whispers grow a prophecy)
Tell all to Corinth of her own accord.
Bright Corinth, not dull Thebes, for Lais' sake,
Who finds me hardly grey, and likes my nose,
And thinks a man of sixty at the prime?
Good! It shall be! Revealment of myself!
But listen, for we must co-operate;
I don't drink tea: permit me the cigar!
First, how to make the matter plain, of course —
What was the law by which I lived. Let 's see:
Ay, we must take one instant of my life
Spent sitting by your side in this neat room:
Watch well the way I use it, and don't laugh!
Here's paper on the table, pen and ink:
Give me the soiled bit — not the pretty rose!
See! having sat an hour, I'm rested now,
Therefore want work: and spy no better work
For eye and hand and mind that guides them both,
During this instant, than to draw my pen
From blot One — thus — up, up to blot Two — thus —
Which I at last reach, thus, and here's my line
Five inches long and tolerably straight:

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poem by Robert Browning (1871)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Tuesdays Gone

Train roll on, on down the line
Wont you please take me far away
Now, I feel the wind blow outside my door
I leave my woman at home
Tuesdays gone with the wind
My babys gone with the wind
And I dont know oh where Im going
I just want to be left alone
When this train ends, Ill try again
I leave my woman at home
Tuesdays gone with the wind
Tuesdays gone with the wind
Tuesdays gone with the wind
My babys gone with the wind
Train roll on, tuesdays gone
Train roll on, many miles from my home
See, Im riding my blues away
Tuesday, you see, she had to be free
But somehow, Ive got to carry on
Tuesdays gone with the wind
Tuesdays gone with the wind
Tuesdays gone with the wind
My babys gone with the wind

song performed by Metallica
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sunday, Bloody Sunday

Well, it was sunday, bloody sunday when the shot the people there.
The cries of thirteen martyrs filled the free derry air.
Is there anyone amongst you dare to blame it on the kids?
Not a soldier boy was bleeding when they nailed the coffin lids!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, you claim to be majority, well, you know that its a lie.
Youre really a minority on this sweet emerald isle.
When stormont bans our marches, theyve got a lot to learn,
Internment is no answer, its those mothers turn to burn.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey! yeah!
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
All you anglo pigs and scotties sent to colonise the north,
You wave your bloody union jacks and you know what its worth.
How dare you hold to ransom a people proud and free?
Keep ireland to the irish, put the english back to sea!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Hey, hey, hey!
Alright!
Ooh -
Yeah!
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Well, its always bloody sunday in the concentration camps.
Keep falls road free forever from the bloody british hands.
Repatriate to britain all of you who call it home,
Leave ireland to the irish not for london or for rome.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday, bloody sundays the day.
Sunday, bloody sunday.

song performed by Yoko Ono
Added by Lucian Velea
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XI. Guido

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

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Work To Make It Work

(r palmer)
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve it
Push it along
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy
Ah push
Work work work to make it work push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
Don't confine your dreams to bed
You'll get scared if you get lazy
If you can't take enough to satisfy yourself
Then you'll go crazy
Wont do no good thinking
You got to do it
So it don't come easy the first time
Practice makes perfect, you know that i'll try hard
Use it or lose it
You got to put your heart and soul into it
Yeaheheh
Push it along
Work work work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to move it
Push it along
Work to make it work
Push it along
Work work work if you want to improve
It's all there for you to feel it
Help your self to one that you can't deal with
Ain't no way that you could steal it
You misunderstand if you get greedy forget wishful thinking
You can do it
You just need a push to make a start
If you don't succeed the first time
Try and try again
Use it or lose it
You got to put your back into it
Work work work to make it work
Push it along

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song performed by Robert Palmer
Added by Lucian Velea
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Saturdays Child

By david gates
Monday had a sad child
Always feeling low down,
Tuesday had a dream child
Shes always on the go
Now Im in love with saturdays child
She drives me wild
Gonna spend my time
Makin sure that saturdays child is mine.
If you love a wednesday
Youll live your life apart now
And if you love a thursday
Shes gonna break your heart,
So Im in love with saturdays child
She drives me wild
Gonna spend my time
Makin sure that saturdays child is mine.
Seven days of the week made to choose from
But only one is right for me
I know that saturdays got what it takes, babe.
I can tell by the way she looks at me
Friday likes the good life
Shell take you for a ride now
And sunday makes a good wife
But she wants to be a bride
So Im in love with saturdays child
She drives me wild
Gonna spend my time
Makin sure that saturdays child is mine.
[repeat 8 bars 3 times then fade out]

song performed by Monkees
Added by Lucian Velea
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Payment

A tortuous path of neurons arced a call: ‘Awake! ’
I did; in rising, peering, stretching, bearing,
Pained anticipation saw it all:
Foretold, another filthy day.

I drew the drape: diluvian lay the ground
Beneath a lazy leaden cloud – apissing out
The puddles; irksome on the roof –
The drumming drops of bitter glee
Were hounding out a hapless me –
Reinforcing doubt that I am sound.

I left the house
to go to work
to earn a crust
without a perk
then on to bust
another straining vessel.

Trudging on thro’ mud and clay, I pondered:
‘Why a drought of happy times?
Auspicious climes were
Old and fusty books
Atop a dusty shelf
Inside a morgue-of-a-room,
Somewhere in a long-forgotten library
Down a lane without a way.’

I thought again: ‘And still I pay.’

Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010

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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Added by Poetry Lover
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