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The instinct of nearly all societies is to lock up anybody who is truly free. First, society begins by trying to beat you up. If this fails, they try to poison you. If this fails too, they finish by loading honors on your head.

classic quote by Jean Cocteau
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She Said

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

song performed by Scooter
Added by Lucian Velea
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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
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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:

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning (1871)
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A Map Of Culture

Culture

Contents

What is Culture?

The Importance of Culture

Culture Varies

Culture is Critical

The Sociobiology Debate

Values, Norms, and Social Control

Signs and Symbols

Language

Terms and Definitions

Approaches to the Study of Culture

Are We Prisoners of Our Culture?

What is Culture?

I prefer the definition used by Ian Robertson: 'all the shared products of society: material and nonmaterial' (Our text defines it in somewhat more ponderous terms- 'The totality of learned, socially transmitted behavior. It includes ideas, values, and customs (as well as the sailboats, comic books, and birth control devices) of groups of people' (p.32) .

Back to Contents

[...] Read more

poem by Nyein Way
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Beat It

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

[...] Read more

song performed by Michael Jackson
Added by Lucian Velea
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Lip Lock Rock

Alright
You look at me, the world in your eyes
You say like my style
Oh yeah
You keep hopin' till I make my move
You resist and give me that smile
Oh yeah
I just want a little kiss
But you keep on playin' those nasty little tricks
I'm longing of a - (...just another kiss)
I want a lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Whoa
You make a man so frustrated
You got my head buried in a hole
Oh no
Just tease me 'till I'm crazy
I'm runnin' out of control
I just want a little kiss
But you keep on playin' those nasty little tricks
I'm not gonna bite, I - (...just want a little kiss)
I want a lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Whoa
Lip lock
Lip lock
Lip lock
Lip lock
Lip lock
Rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Whoa
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Oh whoa
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Lip lock rock
Give it to me
Lip lock rock

[...] Read more

song performed by Alice In Chains
Added by Lucian Velea
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Let the Beat Control Your Body

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

song performed by 2 Unlimited (1996)
Added by Lucian Velea
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Pharsalia - Book IX: Cato

Yet in those ashes on the Pharian shore,
In that small heap of dust, was not confined
So great a shade; but from the limbs half burnt
And narrow cell sprang forth and sought the sky
Where dwells the Thunderer. Black the space of air
Upreaching to the poles that bear on high
The constellations in their nightly round;
There 'twixt the orbit of the moon and earth
Abide those lofty spirits, half divine,
Who by their blameless lives and fire of soul
Are fit to tolerate the pure expanse
That bounds the lower ether: there shall dwell,
Where nor the monument encased in gold,
Nor richest incense, shall suffice to bring
The buried dead, in union with the spheres,
Pompeius' spirit. When with heavenly light
His soul was filled, first on the wandering stars
And fixed orbs he bent his wondering gaze;
Then saw what darkness veils our earthly day
And scorned the insults heaped upon his corse.
Next o'er Emathian plains he winged his flight,
And ruthless Caesar's standards, and the fleet
Tossed on the deep: in Brutus' blameless breast
Tarried awhile, and roused his angered soul
To reap the vengeance; last possessed the mind
Of haughty Cato.

He while yet the scales
Were poised and balanced, nor the war had given
The world its master, hating both the chiefs,
Had followed Magnus for the Senate's cause
And for his country: since Pharsalia's field
Ran red with carnage, now was all his heart
Bound to Pompeius. Rome in him received
Her guardian; a people's trembling limbs
He cherished with new hope and weapons gave
Back to the craven hands that cast them forth.
Nor yet for empire did he wage the war
Nor fearing slavery: nor in arms achieved
Aught for himself: freedom, since Magnus fell,
The aim of all his host. And lest the foe
In rapid course triumphant should collect
His scattered bands, he sought Corcyra's gulfs
Concealed, and thence in ships unnumbered bore
The fragments of the ruin wrought in Thrace.
Who in such mighty armament had thought
A routed army sailed upon the main
Thronging the sea with keels? Round Malea's cape
And Taenarus open to the shades below
And fair Cythera's isle, th' advancing fleet

[...] Read more

poem by Marcus Annaeus Lucanus
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Beat Of Your Drum

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

[...] Read more

song performed by David Bowie
Added by Lucian Velea
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V. Count Guido Franceschini

Thanks, Sir, but, should it please the reverend Court,
I feel I can stand somehow, half sit down
Without help, make shift to even speak, you see,
Fortified by the sip of … why, 't is wine,
Velletri,—and not vinegar and gall,
So changed and good the times grow! Thanks, kind Sir!
Oh, but one sip's enough! I want my head
To save my neck, there's work awaits me still.
How cautious and considerate … aie, aie, aie,
Nor your fault, sweet Sir! Come, you take to heart
An ordinary matter. Law is law.
Noblemen were exempt, the vulgar thought,
From racking; but, since law thinks otherwise,
I have been put to the rack: all's over now,
And neither wrist—what men style, out of joint:
If any harm be, 't is the shoulder-blade,
The left one, that seems wrong i' the socket,—Sirs,
Much could not happen, I was quick to faint,
Being past my prime of life, and out of health.
In short, I thank you,—yes, and mean the word.
Needs must the Court be slow to understand
How this quite novel form of taking pain,
This getting tortured merely in the flesh,
Amounts to almost an agreeable change
In my case, me fastidious, plied too much
With opposite treatment, used (forgive the joke)
To the rasp-tooth toying with this brain of mine,
And, in and out my heart, the play o' the probe.
Four years have I been operated on
I' the soul, do you see—its tense or tremulous part—
My self-respect, my care for a good name,
Pride in an old one, love of kindred—just
A mother, brothers, sisters, and the like,
That looked up to my face when days were dim,
And fancied they found light there—no one spot,
Foppishly sensitive, but has paid its pang.
That, and not this you now oblige me with,
That was the Vigil-torment, if you please!
The poor old noble House that drew the rags
O' the Franceschini's once superb array
Close round her, hoped to slink unchallenged by,—
Pluck off these! Turn the drapery inside out
And teach the tittering town how scarlet wears!
Show men the lucklessness, the improvidence
Of the easy-natured Count before this Count,
The father I have some slight feeling for,
Who let the world slide, nor foresaw that friends
Then proud to cap and kiss their patron's shoe,
Would, when the purse he left held spider-webs,
Properly push his child to wall one day!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Instinct, Emotional and Rational

The Instinct, the Emotional, and the Rational
Are the stages at which your mind functions,
Together or severally in variant degrees.

Hunger and survival: The Instinct springs.
Love and hate: The Emotional surges.
Right and wrong: The Rational decides.

In the game of chess, you are rational.
In the game of love, you are emotional.
In the game of sex, you are instinctual.

The Rational mind is your judge.
The Emotional mind is your advocate.
The Instinctual mind is your subject.

When judge fails, when advocate fails,
The subject spurts to save the self
Or feeds the self without fail.

The Rational abide by the codes.
The Emotional deviates from it.
The Instinct violates it.

The Rational decides how to face.
The Emotional positions the move.
But the Instinct accomplishes it.

Far sighted is the Rational.
Short sighted is the Emotional.
Blind is the Instinct.

The Instinct reels under the Emotional.
The Emotional trails behind the Rational.
The Rational strives to manage them both.

The child is more under the Instinct.
The adult is more under the Emotional.
The old is more under the Rational.

The Rational lacks vigour.
The Emotional lacks balance.
The Instinct lacks prudence.

The Rational has distant motive.
The Emotional has immediate motive.
The Instinct has instant motive.

Intellectuals are rational.
Poets and lovers are emotional.

[...] Read more

poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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The Rape of the Lock

Part 1

WHAT dire Offence from am'rous Causes springs,
What mighty Contests rise from trivial Things,
I sing -- This Verse to C---, Muse! is due;
This, ev'n Belinda may vouchfafe to view:
Slight is the Subject, but not so the Praise,
If She inspire, and He approve my Lays.
Say what strange Motive, Goddess! cou'd compel
A well-bred Lord t'assault a gentle Belle?
Oh say what stranger Cause, yet unexplor'd,
Cou'd make a gentle Belle reject a Lord?
And dwells such Rage in softest Bosoms then?
And lodge such daring Souls in Little Men?

Sol thro' white Curtains shot a tim'rous Ray,
And op'd those Eyes that must eclipse the Day;
Now Lapdogs give themselves the rowzing Shake,
And sleepless Lovers, just at Twelve, awake:
Thrice rung the Bell, the Slipper knock'd the Ground,
And the press'd Watch return'd a silver Sound.
Belinda still her downy Pillow prest,
Her Guardian Sylph prolong'd the balmy Rest.
'Twas he had summon'd to her silent Bed
The Morning-Dream that hover'd o'er her Head.
A Youth more glitt'ring than a Birth-night Beau,
(That ev'n in Slumber caus'd her Cheek to glow)
Seem'd to her Ear his winning Lips to lay,
And thus in Whispers said, or seem'd to say.

Fairest of Mortals, thou distinguish'd Care
Of thousand bright Inhabitants of Air!
If e'er one Vision touch'd thy infant Thought,
Of all the Nurse and all the Priest have taught,
Of airy Elves by Moonlight Shadows seen,
The silver Token, and the circled Green,
Or Virgins visited by Angel-Pow'rs,
With Golden Crowns and Wreaths of heav'nly Flowers,
Hear and believe! thy own Importance know,
Nor bound thy narrow Views to Things below.
Some secret Truths from Learned Pride conceal'd,
To Maids alone and Children are reveal'd:
What tho' no Credit doubting Wits may give?
The Fair and Innocent shall still believe.
Know then, unnumbered Spirits round thee fly,
The light Militia of the lower Sky;
These, tho' unseen, are ever on the Wing,
Hang o'er the Box, and hover round the Ring.
Think what an Equipage thou hast in Air,
And view with scorn Two Pages and a Chair.

[...] Read more

poem by Alexander Pope
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Even When I Rap It With A Scatting

That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
And my...
Feet pats on,
But the beat is gone.

That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
And my...
Feet pats on,
But the beat is gone.

My fingers start to snap it,
But the beat is gone.
I try to tap and pat it,
But the beat is gone.
I even try to scat it,
But the beat is gone,
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.

My fingers start to snap it,
But the beat is gone.
I try to tap and pat it,
But the beat is gone.
I even try to scat it,
But the beat is gone,
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.
Even when I rap it with a scatting that snaps!
Something's wrong.
The beat is gone.

That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.
And my...
Feet pats on,
But the beat is gone.

That beat.
Sometimes I lose that beat.
That natural beat that's in me.

[...] Read more

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Instinct

Pop
Standing on the borderline
Between joy and reason
Tending carefully my fire
Waiting for my season
I know who these people are
I know what they stand for
Corruptions built into this plan
Nothings under the other hand
Tricks and trials await the child
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a deer
Instinct keeps me running
Running through the grinning shadows
I have seen the sludgy beach
And the poisoned river
I have met the lordly rich
Theyre just getting stiffer
This whole place is like a maze
Or like some medusa
Let me out I cant accept
A certain read life story
Tricks and trials await the child
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a deer
Instinct keeps me running
Running where the sorrow bless me
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a moose
Instinct keeps me running
Running to keep one chance open
Marks on walls, the common outlet
Tell the truth and always will
Marks on wall destroy the thought
Of perfect sunny civilization
Tricks and trials await the child
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a deer
Instinct keeps me running
Running through the grinning shadows
Instinct keeps me running
Running like a bear
Instinct keeps me running
Running to keep one chance open
Instinct keeps me running
Running cause I dont believe it
Instinct keeps me running
Running through the bare emotion
Instinct keeps me running
Instinct keeps me running

[...] Read more

song performed by Iggy Pop
Added by Lucian Velea
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VIII. Dominus Hyacinthus de Archangelis, Pauperum Procurator

Ah, my Giacinto, he's no ruddy rogue,
Is not Cinone? What, to-day we're eight?
Seven and one's eight, I hope, old curly-pate!
—Branches me out his verb-tree on the slate,
Amo-as-avi-atum-are-ans,
Up to -aturus, person, tense, and mood,
Quies me cum subjunctivo (I could cry)
And chews Corderius with his morning crust!
Look eight years onward, and he's perched, he's perched
Dapper and deft on stool beside this chair,
Cinozzo, Cinoncello, who but he?
—Trying his milk-teeth on some crusty case
Like this, papa shall triturate full soon
To smooth Papinianian pulp!

It trots
Already through my head, though noon be now,
Does supper-time and what belongs to eve.
Dispose, O Don, o' the day, first work then play!
—The proverb bids. And "then" means, won't we hold
Our little yearly lovesome frolic feast,
Cinuolo's birth-night, Cinicello's own,
That makes gruff January grin perforce!
For too contagious grows the mirth, the warmth
Escaping from so many hearts at once—
When the good wife, buxom and bonny yet,
Jokes the hale grandsire,—such are just the sort
To go off suddenly,—he who hides the key
O' the box beneath his pillow every night,—
Which box may hold a parchment (someone thinks)
Will show a scribbled something like a name
"Cinino, Ciniccino," near the end,
"To whom I give and I bequeath my lands,
"Estates, tenements, hereditaments,
"When I decease as honest grandsire ought."
Wherefore—yet this one time again perhaps—
Shan't my Orvieto fuddle his old nose!
Then, uncles, one or the other, well i' the world,
May—drop in, merely?—trudge through rain and wind,
Rather! The smell-feasts rouse them at the hint
There's cookery in a certain dwelling-place!
Gossips, too, each with keepsake in his poke,
Will pick the way, thrid lane by lantern-light,
And so find door, put galligaskin off
At entry of a decent domicile
Cornered in snug Condotti,—all for love,
All to crush cup with Cinucciatolo!

Well,
Let others climb the heights o' the court, the camp!

[...] Read more

poem by Robert Browning from The Ring and the Book
Added by Veronica Serbanoiu
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All We Got Left Is The Beat

[Intro]
Ey, ey, check it out homie
man, you need to get up out of this spot man
and get a job man before you get smoked man
(yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah son...)
I know you don't wanna hear it man
but, ey, man, wait, hold up loc. you got company man
(where's my guns?)
[Gunshot]
[LL Cool J]
When I'm ridin' on the street I hear gunshots [rare shots]
(swear) crack niggas cause they moms missed flips
So black man really care about politics
In the ninety's, our governments so slick
I watch CNN sometimes and I realize
they're playin' tricks on my mind
They want a man to work with his hands
Too young to die, and they don't give a damn
Rare-momma got down on her knees
But not no more, god damn it, I make cheese
I'm on the move and I'ma show and prove
you might cry to my political groove
Rest in peace, Sauce Brothers underneath
I love you to death while my beats' like a reef
In the middle of the night on the city streets
The only thing we got left is the beat
[Chorus: LL Cool J]
All we got left is the beat, is the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, huh, give it to me
All we got left is the beat, the beat, yo
All we got left is the beat, uh
[LL Cool J]
Who brings guns into the USA?
And then makes sure that they come around the way
Gain the points until the whole race traps
And teach up my woman that she should call up the cops
The projects are hell, wait a, minute
There's nothin' we do but ride on top of an elevator
Say the clubs, I can't get a job
Mouth to feed, somebody's gettin' robbed
I ain't worked, but I ain't workin' for crumbs
You ever seen a man-shelter?
Check out the bombs!!!
Brother of pain, their whole lives are over
They spent every dime tryin' not to be sober
And all the ladies got bags of clothes
They'll be your long lost momma, one never knows
The streets are like a nightmare
While the presidents secretary is chillin' in his leather chair
[Chorus: LL Cool J]

[...] Read more

song performed by LL Cool J
Added by Lucian Velea
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Freedom Now

They throwed him in jail
And they kept him there
Hoping soo hed die
That his body and spirit would waste away
And soon after that his mind
But every day is born a fool
One who thinks that he can rule
One who says tomorrows mine
One who wakes one day to find
The prison doors open the shackles broken
And chaos in the street
Everybody sing were free free free free
Everybody sing were free free free free
Everybody sing were free free free free
They throwed him in jail
And they kept him there
Hoping his memoryd die
That the people forget how he once led
And fought for justice in their lives
But every day is born a man
Who hates what he cant understand
Who thinks the answer is to kill
Who thinks his actions are gods will
And he thinks hes free free free free
Yes he thinks hes free free free free
He thinks hes free free free free
Soon must come the day
Whe the righteous have their way
Unjustly tried are free
And people live in peace I say
Give the man release
Go on and set your conscience free
Right the wrongs you made
Even a fool can have his day
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Free our bodies free our minds
Free our hearts
Freedom for everyone
And freedom now
Freedom now
Freedom now
Freedom now
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free
Let us all be free free free free

song performed by Tracy Chapman
Added by Lucian Velea
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Poison Heart

No one ever thought this one would survive
Helpless child, gonna walk a drum beat behind
Lock you in a dream, never let you go
Never let you laugh or smile, not you.
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
Making friends with a homeless torn up man
He just kind of smiles, it really shakes me up.
There's danger on every corner but I'm okay
Walking down the street trying to forget yesterday.
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart,
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart ... yeah!
You know that life really takes its toll
And a poet's gut reaction is to search his very soul
So much damn confusion before my eyes,
But nothing seems to phase me and this one still survives.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart,
Well, I just want to walk right out of this world,
'Cause everybody has a poison heart.
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart.
a poison heart, a poison heart, a poison heart.

song performed by H.I.M.
Added by Lucian Velea
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Double Helix Abecedarian - Xylophonic Resonance He Licks Enigmatic

XYLOPHONIC RESONANCE HE LICKS ENIGMATIC
Kindly refer to notes. and see Temptations and Poetic Pizza Extravaganza below :)

Xylophonic Resonance
double helix abecedarian

The first line begins with A and ends with Z
the next line begins with Z and ends with A
The next line begins with B and ends with Y
The next line begins with Y and ends with B
The next line begins with C and ends with X
The next line begins with X and ends with C

A to Z top down A to Z bottom up

All fizzle, finish frazzled, launched with fizZ.
Zero dreams teem when spirit seems at seA
Because most adepts of philosophY
Yearn for zenith seldom dwell on ebB,
Carpe diem value, seeking sea, sun, seX.
Xylem tree of life’s cannibalistiC
Desires corrupt deeds most men seW,
With survival’s urge soon lost indeeD.
Events churn causal patterns, AsimoV
Viewed clearly, took as starship journey cuE
Finding worlds which may appeal to yoU,
Unknown reader from beyond Time’s gulF -
Great divide between those past, those lefT -
Time travellers peruse these lines to sinG
High praise of poets who’ll know no more springS.
Spontaneousl prose poem picks pensive patH
In patter pattern, feet dance to empoweR.
Rhythm harmonious, need no alibI,
Joins sense, style versatile, from mind's H.Q.,
Questions seeks, finds answers. Soujourn’s hadJ
Knowledge acquires to share more than to keeP,
Pipes clear to others drifting through the darK.
Lark sings dawn’s welcome song, and each man’s taO
Opens connections, on life’s sea a-saiL
Ma d, sad, glad, bad, for threescore years and teN
Never certain of his mortal aiM,
Nor sure to gain posthumous fame, acclaiM,
Making ends meet in hope to rise agaiN
On judgement day should trust and faith prevaiL.
Life-spans increase but trite hullabaloO
Prepares too few for winding sheet, corpse starK,

[...] Read more

poem by Jonathan Robin
Added by Poetry Lover
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Clint Eastwood

Clint Eastwood (Phi Life Cypher [Si Phili]
Yo. Yo.
'Cause I'm this, Gorillaz from the mist lyricist and my thoughts be twisted
I spit the wickedest rhymes from a time that's never existed
My futuristic linguistics turn fools into statistics
I'm a lyrical misfit with the sadistic characteristics
I perform murderous acts on my tracks with a single breath
and if a boy wanna test, then I be stampin' upon his chest
Done makin' a mess - Not a man could concieve the weed I'm consumin'
and I transform from my cartoon pseudonym, turn to a human
I spit words from my mouth that be turnin' you inside out
and I tie knots in intestines just like I'm a boy scout
that's workin' 'em out - Now rearrangin' your whole skeletal structure
then I find some nine inch nails to perform some accupuncture
When I punch ya, I rupture one of your rib cage in a rage
and I turn you into a cartoon toon and erase the page
I take you back to the Stone Age with Barney and Fred Flinstone
Got Dino to take a machinos and then forage in a live home
[Life]
I'ma take off like a jet pack with the get back, rather step back
I'ma make the crowd react and nod they heads until they neck snap
Life conflict rap while riding a skateboard and doin' a tic-tac
and leave your head in a spin like servin' on turn table skid mats
I'm a concrete lion, big cat - These are real talk, not big-chat
Did ya get that 'cause I ain't no small timer - I rhyme on big tracks
Now feel the vise I create - This heavyweight, I'm a rap to detonate
and demonstrate how I generate lyrics that supernaturally levitate
to the top - My lyrics are skeletons - Accelerate and leave you panicin'
Take the ground from beneath your feet, leave you Skywalk-in' like Anakin
I'm sharper than the tips of Zulu spears and Olympic javelins
My style is totally buck wild and most definitely happenin'
To your brains I be tappin' in, to computers I be hackin' in
To me, I be out of this world like aliens who were time travelin'
I'm babblin' in the Fists of Fury technique when I speak
Forget Karate Kid and these wooden blocks, I chop from concrete
Concrete, concrete, concrete!
Wha-wha-wha-wha-wha-wha!
[Si Phili]
I been stoned; ever since the days of creation, I've been red
I'm a mad dred, causin' so much havoc in Russel's head
My lyricism is just like an aneurysm inside his brain
He plays the beat in a trance and he's never feeling no pain
I could never be a racist because I posess so many faces
I'm one of those beat-up bad wit' bags and a pair of braces
with lines longer than laces - I'm gracin' you with my presence
The lyrics went flippin', makin' ya bubble like effervescence
I pulverize and bamboozle, shake numb skulls like a boodle
I smashed the top of your head with a guitar I borrowed from Noodle
I'm as animated as Japanese animes causin' callamities
Some serious savory from my roarous rhymes of reality

[...] Read more

song performed by Gorillaz
Added by Lucian Velea
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