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The Front Runner

Cast: Hugh Jackman, Vera Farmiga, Sara Paxton, Kaitlyn Dever, Molly Ephraim, J.K. Simmons, Courtney Ford, Ari Graynor, Kevin Pollak

trailer for The Front Runner, directed by Jason Reitman (2018)
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Sara

Go now, dont look back, weve drawn the line
Move on, its no good to go back in time
Ill never find another girl like you, for happy endings it takes two
Were fire and ice, the dream wont come true
Chorus:
Sara, sara, storms are brewin in your eyes
Sara, sara, no time is a good time for goodbyes
Danger in the game when the stakes are high
Branded, my heart was branded while my senses stood by
Ill never find another girl like you, for happy endings it takes two
Were fire and ice, the dream wont come true
Sara, sara, storms are brewin in your eyes
Sara, sara, no time is a good time, oh
Sara, sara, storms are brewin in your eyes
Sara, sara, no time is a good time for goodbyes
(cos sara) loved me like no one has ever loved me before
(and sara) hurt me, no one could ever hurt me more
(and sara) sara, nobody loved me anymore
(guitar solo)
Ill never find another girl like you
Were fire and ice, the dream wont come true
Sara, sara, no time is a good time, oh
Sara, sara, storms are brewin in your eyes
Sara, sara, no time is a good time for goodbyes
Sara, sara, -- storms -- are brewin in your eyes
Sara, sara, no time is a good time, no
Ooh sara, why did it, why did it, why did it all fall apart
Sara, sara...

song performed by Starship
Added by Lucian Velea
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Only Molly Knows

When the day is done
Oh Molly Molly
Will I be the one
When the day is through
Oh Molly Molly
Will I be with you
Tell me what to do
Oh Molly Molly
Let me follow through
'Cos I am lost at sea
Oh Molly Molly
Haven't got a clue
All I have to show
For all the years below
Only Molly knows
When the lights go down
Oh Molly Molly
Will you be around
When the lights are gone
Oh Molly Molly
Will you leave the town
Tell me what is wrong
Oh Molly Molly
Let me sing a song
'Cos I have lost the will
Oh Molly Molly
Cannot carry on
All I have to show
For all the years below
Only Molly knows
When the day is done
Oh Molly Molly
Will I be the one
When the day is through
Oh Molly Molly
Will I be with you
Tell me what to do
Oh Molly Molly
Let me follow through
Where are we to be tomorrow Molly
Haven't got a clue
All I have to show
For all the years below
Only Molly knows

song performed by Travis
Added by Lucian Velea
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Adrienne Vittadini

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[...] Read more

poem by Caasder Fronds
Added by Poetry Lover
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Ford O' Kabul River

Kabul town's by Kabul river --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
There I lef' my mate for ever,
Wet an' drippin' by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
There's the river up and brimmin', an' there's 'arf a squadron swimmin'
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town's a blasted place --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Strewth I sha'n't forget 'is face
Wet an' drippin' by the ford!
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they will surely guide you
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town is sun and dust --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
I'd ha' sooner drownded fust
'Stead of 'im beside the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
You can 'ear the 'orses threshin', you can 'ear the men a-splashin',
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town was ours to take --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
I'd ha' left it for 'is sake --
'Im that left me by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
It's none so bloomin' dry there; ain't you never comin' nigh there,
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark?

Kabul town'll go to hell --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Fore I see him 'live an' well --
'Im the best beside the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Gawd 'elp 'em if they blunder, for their boots'll pull 'em under,
By the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Turn your 'orse from Kabul town --
Blow the bugle, draw the sword --
'Im an' 'arf my troop is down,
Down an' drownded by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,

[...] Read more

poem by Rudyard Kipling
Added by Poetry Lover
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Sara

I laid on a dune, I looked at the sky,
When the children were babies and played on the beach.
You came up behind me, I saw you go by,
You were always so close and still within reach.
Sara, sara,
Whatever made you want to change your mind?
Sara, sara,
So easy to look at, so hard to define.
I can still see them playin with their pails in the sand,
They run to the water their buckets to fill.
I can still see the shells fallin out of their hands
As they follow each other back up the hill.
Sara, sara,
Sweet virgin angel, sweet love of my life,
Sara, sara,
Radiant jewel, mystical wife.
Sleepin in the woods by a fire in the night,
Drinkin white rum in a portugal bar,
Them playin leapfrog and hearin about snow white,
You in the marketplace in savanna-la-mar.
Sara, sara,
Its all so clear, I could never forget,
Sara, sara,
Lovin you is the one thing Ill never regret.
I can still hear the sounds of those methodist bells,
Id taken the cure and had just gotten through,
Stayin up for days in the chelsea hotel,
Writin sad-eyed lady of the lowlands for you.
Sara, sara,
Wherever we travel were never apart.
Sara, oh sara,
Beautiful lady, so dear to my heart.
How did I meet you? I dont know.
A messenger sent me in a tropical storm.
You were there in the winter, moonlight on the snow
And on lily pond lane when the weather was warm.
Sara, oh sara,
Scorpio sphinx in a calico dress,
Sara, sara,
You must forgive me my unworthiness.
Now the beach is deserted except for some kelp
And a piece of an old ship that lies on the shore.
You always responded when I needed your help,
You gimme a map and a key to your door.
Sara, oh sara,
Glamorous nymph with an arrow and bow,
Sara, oh sara,
Dont ever leave me, dont ever go.

song performed by Bob Dylan
Added by Lucian Velea
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Sara

Go now
Don't look back, we've drawn the line
Move on
It's no good to go back in time
I'll never find another girl like you
For happy endings it takes two
With fire and ice
a dream won't come true
Sara, Sara
Storms are brewin' in your eyes
Sara, Sara
No time is a good time for goodbyes
Danger
In the game when the stakes are high
Branded
My heart was branded while my senses stood by
I'll never find another girl like you
For happy endings it takes two
With fire and ice
a dream won't come true
Sara, Sara
Storms are brewin' in your eyes
uh oh oh oh
Sara, Sara
No time is a good time for goodbyes
(Hey Sara)
Love me like no one has ever loved me before
(And Sara)
Hurt me, no one could ever hurt me more
(Oh Sara)
Sara
(Hey Sara)
Nobody loved me before
I'll never find another girl like you
With fire and ice
a dream won't come true
Sara, Sara
No time is a good time for...
Sara, Sara
Storms are brewin' in your eyes
Sara, Sara
No time is a good time for goodbyes
Sara, Sara
Storms, are brewin' in your eyes
Sara, Sara
No time is a good time
No
Why did it, why did it all fall apart

song performed by Jefferson Starship
Added by Lucian Velea
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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The Ouija Board

In Holmewood a quiet mining village in North Derbyshire
where the terraced houses were still owned by the mine.
There lived a young ex-miner with his wife and children,
and Dennis the father hadn’t worked for sometime.

Concrete floors were laid downstairs because of subsidence,
they had no curtains, carpets, television, or hi-fi.
All their money went on rent, food, and paying bills,
Vera was unhappy, but Dennis couldn’t understand why.

She wanted to move away from the village to Derby,
where opportunities knocked on every ones door.
But Dennis was accustomed to the hardships of mining
and moving away didn’t have the same draw.

He always persuaded Vera that things would get better
and a kiss and cuddle covered his incompetence.
All his ex-miner cronies were in the same boat,
and working for a living to him made no sense.

He’d become lazy and didn’t want the hassle of a new life
unlike many ex-miners who had moved to pastures new.
Many of the young families who rented their houses
were tied to the mine and didn’t know what else to do.

At the end of the main street was the village’s nearest pit,
and on any shift any miner could die.
Throughout the years many men had lost their lives,
and their bodies in the cemetery lie.

The miners’ widows very often came to see Vera
to ask if she would make contact with their dead.
She felt for the community and turned no one away,
and their gratitude helped to pay for the bread.

One night she would organise six people to be together,
in the unlit empty room at the top of the stairs.
Carrying a lit candle, an empty glass and Ouija board,
she would arrange the table and six fold down chairs.

The home made Ouija board lay flat on the table
and in the middle was the upturned glass.
As everyone placed their index finger on the top of it,
Vera whispered for silence for what was about to pass.

They waited whist the candle flame danced and flickered,
again she whispered, “Is anyone there? ”
As the glass moved to letters on the board’s pencilled alphabet,
a confirmation brought a chill to the air.

[...] Read more

poem by Orlando Belo
Added by Poetry Lover
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When Will We Be Married

(traditional)
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
You have your eye on jimmy
Long jimmy lee
You have your eye on jimmy
Anda fine man he
You have your eye on jimmy
But youd better let him be
Because when you go, molly-o
Youll be gone with me
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
You have your eye on johnny
Thin johnny fee
You have your eye on johnny
And a fine man he
You have your eye on johnny
But youd better let him be
Because when you go, molly-o
Youll be gone with me
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
I made a black bow
For your pretty head
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
I made a black bow
For your bonny head
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be

[...] Read more

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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When Will We Be Married

(traditional)
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
You have your eye on jimmy
Long jimmy lee
You have your eye on jimmy
Anda fine man he
You have your eye on jimmy
But youd better let him be
Because when you go, molly-o
Youll be gone with me
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
You have your eye on johnny
Thin johnny fee
You have your eye on johnny
And a fine man he
You have your eye on johnny
But youd better let him be
Because when you go, molly-o
Youll be gone with me
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be
Bedded in the same bed
I made a black bow
For your pretty head
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
I made a black bow
For your bonny head
When will we be married molly
When will we be wed
When will we be

[...] Read more

song performed by Waterboys
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Son Of Vera

I'm - the son of Vera...
I did not write you the letters for long,
Vera Pavlovna.
Winds have carried me away,
Winds were singing me a song
Once - impudently,
The other time - terribly,
At last - plaintively.

I'm - the son of Vera.
Oh, how did you help me, mother!
Mama Vera...
You embraced me on the empty stations, mama Vera.
I'm - the son of Vera.
You were waiting for the useless son to be back, mama Vera...
And you asked me to write
in my letters the only truth, mama Vera...

I'm - the son of Vera!
The Belief not into god, not in angels, not in the next world!
I'm - the son of belief in sun,
Which is shining through the tatters of clouds!
I'm - the son of belief in the labour of a man,
In the flowers on the burnt earth.

I'm - the son of belief!
The belief in the silence under the torture!
And in the song before the execution!
I'm - the son of belief in the terrestial love,
dazzling as a miracle.
I'm - the son of belief in the Morrow
such as I wish it to be!
And in the people, who are wide as a road!
Sincere, and worthy...

I'm - the son of belief, I despise ninnies!
I hate ones, whining and groaning! ..
I write to you only the truth, mama Vera.
Only the truth...

Only here is much a business!
Forgive me,
I'll not be back soon...

poem by Robert Rozhdestvensky, translated by Lyudmila Purgina
Added by Poetry Lover
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[...] Read more

poem by Rwetewrt Erwtwer
Added by Poetry Lover
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Mephisto And Kevin

In 1986, the University of Californa at Davis
saw two of its all-time brightest stars,
Dr. Alphonse Mephisto and Dr. Arnie Abesacraben.
Dr. Mephisto worked hard towards his thesis - his goal
was to genetically duplicate the DNA structure of Asparagus,
so that all Asparagus would grow to the same girth and length,
Giving Asparagus a much more pleasent presentation in the world's
supermarkter vegetable bins.
Dr. Abesacraben's goal was to genetically create the greatest
musical entertainer the world had ever seen.
Dr. Abesacraben knew that if he could assemble the right elements,
he could theoretically build a DNA structure that would ensure
his creation had talent far surpassing the average individual.
At the time, one subject of urban myth was the story that
Michael Jackson - in an effort to maintain his youthful look and
feminie vocal characteristics - had his testicles surgically removed,
thereby making him a modern-day castrato.
If such a rumor were true, Michael Jackson more that likely would have
had some of his semen preserved before the surgery, to ensure his the
future of his name and lineage.
Word came back to Dr. Abesacraben of a secret cold storage locker
deep within the bowels of the UCLA research center, that not only
contained four containers of frozen semen, but also held a pair of
testicles, each was labeled with the name "Jack Michaelson".
I once heard a noise,
In the night the most sensual voice.
Song of love from a eight year-old boy,
Stuck in my head.
And this is what he said:
I am gopher boy!
Pondering reality!
I am gopher boy!
Who will buy my raspberries?
This had to be the seed of the king of pop!
Dr. Abesacraben was able to use his charm and and chissled Greek
feature to woo a young lab technician by the name of Jennifer, who of
course happened to have the proper access needed to obtain a small vial
of the precious semen.
The search for the egg was a short one - Dr. Mephisto simply ran an ad
in the classified section of an airline music magazine.The ad read:
"Wanted: unfertilized human eggs for genetic experiment.Donors must
have musical background."With a pleathera of young, eager wanna-be
music starlets willing to sell their eggs, the two doctors - after
rigorous
auditioning - picked... and purchased.
Dr. Abesacraben felt that it would be far less complicated legally if the
fetus were brought to term in the womb of a non-human.He had long since
secured the services of the University volleyball mascot, a llama by the
name of "Missy".
When the baby was ready, the child via cesarean.It was a healthy baby

[...] Read more

song performed by Primus
Added by Lucian Velea
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!

Mephisto & Kevin

In 1986, the university of californa at davis
Saw two of its all-time brightest stars,
Dr. alphonse mephisto and dr. arnie abesacraben.
Dr. mephisto worked hard towards his thesis - his goal
Was to genetically duplicate the dna structure of asparagus,
So that all asparagus would grow to the same girth and length,
Giving asparagus a much more pleasent presentation in the worlds
Supermarkter vegetable bins.
Dr. abesacrabens goal was to genetically create the greatest
Musical entertainer the world had ever seen.
Dr. abesacraben knew that if he could assemble the right elements,
He could theoretically build a dna structure that would ensure
His creation had talent far surpassing the average individual.
At the time, one subject of urban myth was the story that
Michael jackson - in an effort to maintain his youthful look and
Feminie vocal characteristics - had his testicles surgically removed,
Thereby making him a modern-day castrato.
If such a rumor were true, michael jackson more that likely would have
Had some of his semen preserved before the surgery, to ensure his the
Future of his name and lineage.
Word came back to dr. abesacraben of a secret cold storage locker
Deep within the bowels of the ucla research center, that not only
Contained four containers of frozen semen, but also held a pair of
Testicles, each was labeled with the name jack michaelson.
I once heard a noise,
In the night the most sensual voice.
Song of love from a eight year-old boy,
Stuck in my head.
And this is what he said:
I am gopher boy!
Pondering reality!
I am gopher boy!
Who will buy my raspberries?
This had to be the seed of the king of pop!
Dr. abesacraben was able to use his charm and and chissled greek
Feature to woo a young lab technician by the name of jennifer, who of
Course happened to have the proper access needed to obtain a small vial
Of the precious semen.
The search for the egg was a short one - dr. mephisto simply ran an ad
In the classified section of an airline music magazine. the ad read:
Wanted: unfertilized human eggs for genetic experiment. donors must
Have musical background. with a pleathera of young, eager wanna-be
Music starlets willing to sell their eggs, the two doctors - after
Rigorous
Auditioning - picked... and purchased.
Dr. abesacraben felt that it would be far less complicated legally if the
Fetus were brought to term in the womb of a non-human. he had long since
Secured the services of the university volleyball mascot, a llama by the
Name of missy.
When the baby was ready, the child via cesarean. it was a healthy baby

[...] Read more

song performed by Primus
Added by Lucian Velea
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Good Golly Miss Molly

Good golly miss molly, sure like to ball.
Good golly, miss molly, sure like to ball.
When youre rockin and a rollin cant hear your momma call.
From the early early mornin till the early early night
You can see miss molly rockin at the house of blue lights.
Good golly, miss molly, sure like to ball.
When youre rockin and a rollin cant hear your momma call.
Well, now momma, poppa told me: son, you better watch your step.
If I knew my momma, poppa, have to watch my dad myself.
Good golly, miss molly, sure like to ball.
When youre rockin and a rollin cant hear your momma call.
I am going to the corner, gonna buy a diamond ring.
Would you pardon me if its a nineteen carat golden thing.
Good golly, miss molly, sure like to ball.
When youre rockin and a rollin cant hear your momma call.
Good golly, miss molly, sure like to ball.
Good golly, miss molly, sure like to ball.
When youre rockin and a rollin cant hear your momma call.

song performed by Creedence Clearwater Revival
Added by Lucian Velea
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M'Gillviray's Dream

A Forest-Ranger's Story.

JUST nineteen long years, Jack, have passed o'er my shoulders
Since close to this spot we lay waiting the foe;
Ay, here is the mound where brave Percival moulders,
And yonder's the place where poor Norman lies low;
'Twas only a skirmish — just eight of our number
Were stretch'd on the sward when the fighting was done;
We scooped out their beds, and we left them to slumber,
The bold-hearted fellows went down with the sun.
The month was October — young Summer was peeping
Through evergreen forests where Spring, still supreme,
Spread all the rich tints that she had in her keeping
On tree, shrub, and bush, while each brooklet and stream
With babblings of joy ran along to the river —
But, hang it, old man, I am going too far;
I talk as I used to when from Cupid's quiver
Flew darts of affection my bosom to scar.
I'm not much at poetry, Jack, though I've written
Some nonsense in verse when my heart was aglow
With what they call love — have you ever been smitten
By some artful minx who deceived you? What, no?
By Jove, you've been lucky; but, Jack, I'm digressing.
Our quarters were here, under Lusk, and we made
Our camp in the church without asking a blessing;
This place is still known as the Mauku Stockade.
I'd fought with Von Tempsky along the Waikato;
I'd seen the green banks of that fair river dyed
With British blood, red as the plumes of the rata
When Spring scatters scarlet drops thick in her pride.
I cared not for danger, and fighting was pleasure,
The life of a Ranger was one of romance —
A dare-devil fool ever ready to measure
A savage's length with my rifle. 'Twas chance
That sent me among them; I lived but for glory;
My comrades were all of good mettle and true,
And one was a hero; I'll tell you his story —
God rest poor M'Gillviray — brave-hearted Hugh!
I knew him for years, Jack, and shoulder to shoulder
He stood by me often when swift leaden hail
Whizzed close to our ears. Ah! old man, I was bolder
In those valiant days than I'm now. To my tale: —

The morning was gloomy, and Hugh sat beside me;
We'd chumm'd in together for two years or more;
I found him a brick, and he said when he tried me
In front of the foe, “Dick, you're true to the core!”
Enough — we were friends, and in trouble or danger
We stuck by each other in camp and in fray.
How often we find in the breast of a stranger

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poem by Thomas Bracken
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Fauconshawe

[A Ballad]

To fetch clear water out of the spring
The little maid Margaret ran,
From the stream to the castle's western wing
It was but a bowshot span ;
On the sedgy brink where the osiers cling
Lay a dead man, pallid and wan.

The lady Mabel rose from her bed,
And walked in the castle hall,
Where the porch through the western turret led
She met with her handmaid small.
'What aileth thee, Margaret ?' the lady said,
'Hast let thy pitcher fall ?

'Say, what hast thou seen by the streamlet side—
A nymph or a water sprite—
That thou comest with eyes so wild and wide,
And with cheeks so ghostly white ?'
'Nor nymph nor sprite,' the maiden cried,
'But the corpse of a slaughtered knight.'

The lady Mabel summon'd straight
To her presence Sir Hugh de Vere,
Of the guests who tarried within the gate
Of Fauconshawe, most dear
Was he to that lady ; betrothed in state
They had been since many a year.

'Little Margaret sayeth a dead man lies
By the western spring, Sir Hugh ;
I can scarce believe that the maiden lies—
Yet scarce can believe her true.'
And the knight replies, 'Till we test her eyes
Let her words gain credence due.'

Down the rocky path knight and lady led,
While guests and retainers bold
Followed in haste, for like wildfire spread
The news by the maiden told.
They found 'twas even as she had said—
The corpse had some while been cold.

How the spirit had pass'd in the moments last
There was little trace to reveal ;
On the still, calm face lay no imprint ghast,
Save the angel's solemn seal,
Yet the hands were clench'd in a death-grip fast,
And the sods stamp'd down by the heel.

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poem by Adam Lindsay Gordon
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Coming Home

Five minutes here, and they must steal two more!
shameful! Here have I been five mortal years
and not seen home nor one dear kindred face,
and these abominable slugs, this guard,
this driver, porters--what are they about?--
keep us here motionless, two minutes, three.--
Aha! at last!

Good! We shall check our minutes;
we're flying after them, like a mad wind
chasing the leaves it has tossed on in front.
Oh glorious wild speed, what giants' play!
and there are men who tell us poetry
is dead where railways come! Maybe 'tis true,
I'm a bad judge, I've had scant reading time
and little will to read ...... and certainly
I've not found railways in what verse I know:
but there's a whizz and whirr as trains go by,
a bullet-like indomitable rush
and then all's done, which makes me often think
one of those men who found out poetry,
and had to write the things just that they saw,
would have made some of their fine crashing lines
that stir one like the marches one knows best,
and the enemy knows best, with trains in them
as easily as chariots.

Anyhow
I've poetry and music too to-day
in the very clatter: it goes "Home, home, home."

And they'll think that sharp shriek a kinder sound
than sweetest singing, when it presently
pierces the quiet of the night and sends
its eager shrillness on for miles before
to say I'm no time distant. I can see
my mother's soft pink cheeks (like roses, pale
after a June week's blooming,) flush and wan,
and her lip quiver; I can see the girls,
restless between the hall door and the clock,
hear it and hush and lean expectant heads
to catch the rattle of the coming train;
my father, sitting pshawing by the fire
at all the fuss and waiting, half start up,
dropping his Times, forgetful just so long
that he is not impatient like the rest,
the tender foolish women, and, alert
to hide how he was tempted to fuss too,
reseat himself intent on politics;
and Hugh--I think Hugh must be there with them,

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poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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War Songs

I like new fashion
I like old stories
Like my sister used to tell
This is the voice
This is the picture
I like romantics
But I dont like steven
Old men love war songs
Love vera lynn
Old men love war songs
Now Im vera lynn
I like the welcom
I like my sunbed
But it burns me alove
I like old heroes
I like old filmstars
Dirty pictures........snap snap
I like intrusion
When shes dressed in white
A nervous bride
I dont remember
If shes black or white
This is the heart
Old men love war songs
Love vera lynn
Old men love war songs
Now Im vera lynn
This could be it
This could be nothing
Will you remember
When the sparkle dies down
I like ferraris
I like the fame
Appreciation in the strangest ways
I could believee
In such things for now
Dont like to crash........ climb, climb
I like the dancer
Like youre supposed to
Ill keep my mouth shut
But I dont like this
Old men love war songs
Love vera lynn
Old men love war songs
Now Im vera lynn

song performed by Gary Numan
Added by Lucian Velea
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The Latest Decalogue after Arthur Hugh Clough

The Latest Decalogue

Worship one true God only, who would run to the expense of two?
Your ruin truly will ensue unless you heresy eschew.

Insisting with sincerity in this wise world, where nothing’s free,
no carven icons cruel should we create, except our currency.

We venture here, in vapid verse, the Third Commandment to rehearse, -
swear not at all, for, for your curse, your enemy seems none the worse.

He who the Fourth Commandment penned, my sins and errors must amend,
but, Sir, on Sunday Church attend – ‘twill serve to keep the world thy friend.

Honour thy parents: that is all from whom advancement may befall.
Be prompt to run at beck and call of all who have the wherewithal.

Commandment Six now follows Five, thou shalt not kill, but none need strive
officiously to keep alive, - and thus fulfill ambition’s drive.

Of all the seven sins that sit upon thy soul when Judgement’s writ,
the last, that’s lust, do not commit – for profit seldom comes of it.

Dame Fortune’s smile you would entreat by guile to guild your golden seat?
Then do not steal – an empty feat when its so lucrative to cheat.

Bear not false witness; let the lie have time on its own wings to fly.
Allow your friend himself to tie the noose which round his neck will lie.

Covet your neighbour’s? ‘Tis sedition. In 10th Commandment’s new rendition
anticipating competition, - sedate his horse with expedition!

25 December 1977 robi3_0147_clou1_0003 PXX_EJX
Parody Arthur Hugh Clough 1819_1861 The Latest Decalogue

SEE BELOW FOR THE ORIGINAL AND OTHER PARODIES

The Latest Decalogue

Thou shalt have one God only; who
Would be at the expense of two?
No graven images may be
Worshipped, except the currency:
Swear not at all; for, for thy curse
Thine enemy is none the worse:
At church on Sunday to attend

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poem by Jonathan Robin
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